lonely lovely city

lonely lovely city

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Who knows?

Today, I interfaced with a beautiful man on the R train-somewhere in his late thirties or early forties with a few, dramatic wrinkles on his forehead near a receding harline. Towards the Manhattan bridge, he looked up at me and stared, only briefly though. His yummy, dark brown eyes felt penetrating. Whether he was looking out into the east river or day dreaming, I wanted him to see me.

One of the first things I notice about others on the commute is the reading material. This stud didn't disappoint. The latest cover of The New Yorker was being read while listening to his ipod. I found it strange and appealing that a total stranger could evoke feelings of hope. For a quick moment, I just wondered what it would be like if we were lovers. How does his mind work? Does he sleep on the right or left side of the bed? Is cuddling crucial? Most importantly, can he kiss? Of course I am a hapless romantic who gives into fantasy. Yes, I am one that watches chick flicks with friends, fooling myself that this kind of love is plausible.

I admired his hands. They were big and strong with long, thick fingers. My illusion allowed me to think he was a skilled craftsman who was working on a novel. Approaching Grand Street, he placed the magazine in a Jack Spade messenger bag. He tapped his foot, grooving to sounds while shaking his head with a certain finesse unseen by most of us.

Now, I am not the type to obsess or make others uncomfortable with a stare. Over the years, I have perfected a discrete way of not showing any interest in a man, but thinking the opposite: "what a cutie-please, say something." With unsuccessful attempts, I want to meet a guy just like this in the most unexpected, genuine manner. Instances such as riding the train or literally running into another person are what I imagine could happen in the personal boyfriend search. As I did nothing to garner his attention, I craved gumption in approaching him and just taking.

Let's face it. We all omit vibes, internal feelings and odors. (He probably smelled of vanilla and pine). Mine could be off at the moment. Nothing is happening. So many times I have come across that guy that got away. The worst he could do is turn away if I approach him. No big deal, right. Who knows? It might be the start of a beautiful relationship.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Coffee and a date-YAY!




Most recently, I discovered an article in the NY Times about the McCafe in Berlin, Germany. Apparently, McDonald's, has hit the streets of Australia, New Zealand, and now Europe with a wave of uber-hip coffee houses. Much like it's predecessor, shall I dare say the dreaded Starbucks; the McCafe is a haven for meeting single people in a polished setting. I couldn't help but recall my trip to Berlin last summer.

If it were feasible, I would move there in a heartbeat. I stayed for six blissful days in Charlottenburg, which is located in the western sphere of the city. Upon my first foray into this European heaven, the ornate restaurants and cafes that line the cobble stoned streets were breeding grounds for meeting cute, intelligent men. They are everywhere in the public parks, reading their books in the buff and riding the U-Bahn with an open gaze.

A majority of the Germans I met were surprisingly laid back. They were friendly, humorous and spoke fluent English and had no problems discussing Barack Obama, Paris Hilton or even the recession. Words of advice- just be prepared if you're dining al fresco for fear of the ubiquitous swarms of bees flying over that scrumptious omelette, buttery pastry and berry preserves.

Back home in NYC, I am the impatient one in line that orders a mocha so sweet and thick, one wouldn't know it came from a coffee bean. I avoid the commercial venues by getting in and speeding out, because they are usually too loud with impinging patrons. But this is a personal period of change. I am over being lonely. I am devising a project: find cool cafes downtown like the examples set in my Beloved Berlin.

I already found a cozy place off of East 7th that I am checking out on Wednesday. I just know my inner coffee geek is somewhere inside, clamoring to branch its voice amongst the heard of available, gay, single, and approachable men. I imagine them sitting in their chairs, willing to exchange a chat, a yummy delicious coffee drink, and the best thing of all: a connection. Let the games begin.

(F.Y.I-the newest McCafe is slated to arrive sometime here in the big apple during the fall in SoHo)

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Is it too little or too late?

No dates. No men. At first, I thought it was kind of fun signing up for an account on okcupid.com. I loved logging to see if there were winks aimed towards my direction or even a cute message. Not. It is drudgery, because I resent being stuck. While I wait for the subsequent responses that will probably never come in, I am adopting a new philosophy: not trying so much!

Looking for love hasn't been easy. I spend a lot of time-trapped and afraid- that anyone could see past my physical and emotional scars and just love me. When I look in the mirror, I hate what I see. Last week my patient, very pregnant therapist, calmly said in her leather chair, that I am a hard shell and need softness in my heart-if I ever want a boyfriend that is. Ouch. I wanted this woman to hold my hand; not tell the ugly truth. Every other week, I profess a certain loneliness. I am tired, if not slightly bored.

I am not sure what or who I need to be anymore. When meeting others in social situations, I attempt not to reveal any insecurity by asking them questions about their lives and interests. Perhaps it deflects the reality of being seen. Aside from watching adoring couples kissing and holding hands under the magnolia trees on our city streets this weekend, I felt a slight optimism as I strolled to work.

Whether I attend more social meeting events or join another sappy, if not useless dating website, I don't want to be bummed. I know a opportunity will arrive-eventually. But, for now, I am taking her invaluable advice in having more compassion for being single and lost. Before I can allow anyone into this hardened heart, it must be open. And hopefully, softened.