The topic of this story has become so overrated now that it is bordering cliche territory.
Back Story: Facebook has become a tornado. I remember when it was first created. It was many moons ago when I was still in college. In the beginning, you had to be a college student in order to sign up for it and only certain colleges were allowed to be on it. Eventually, almost every college all the way to Timbuktu was granted access and now every living, breathing thing including your dog is now able to have an account (literally speaking).
At the time people literally took the ‘friend request’ as what it meant, someone who is your friend wants to add you to their friends’ list. One of my friends at the time had said to me, “why is she asking to be Facebook friends with me? We barely know each other.”
Fast forward to over a decade later it has now spiraled into a new dimension……
Now it is a breeding ground for narcissism, people use it for their ‘dear diary’ or the opposite by trying to make other people jealous into thinking they’re living such a fab life. Social media, especially Facebook has now become the catalyst for the dismantling of relationships including jobs. You have to be careful what you put out there and to what audience you let view it.
Many people that are attorneys and hold other high profile careers with a reputation and career to maintain don’t seem to care though. I see lawyers in their bikinis all over their Instagram spread out on a boat marveling at what a great day it is to take off from work or clearly drunk bankers standing next to women who look like call girls. I can’t help but wonder how they aren’t concerned who is seeing it. What if their boss is looking at it?
It is also in poor taste to have a lot of pictures publicly showing yourself half dressed but like I said I see plenty of men and women who have big jobs plaster it for everyone to see anyway. Teachers have been fired for posting a picture of themselves with a beer in their hand and their obviously of age to drink! Another teacher was dumb enough to comment on one of her student’s Twitter account by responding to their status to correct the grammatical error he made. Another thing that I’m not sure people are made well aware of is that whatever you post is never erased, Mark Zuckerberg and every other creator out there on social media now has ownership of what you published even if you ended up erasing it.
It has been proven that Facebook instigates relationships, whether it is romance or just friendships. A lot of people are attention whores (I am one of those people) and love to draw attention from the opposite sex and every Tom, Dick & Harry to marvel of how cute/pretty/hot they look, how they’re having the time of their life on a rooftop at a lounge, or on vacation. When couples openly display their relationship to also show others how “happy” they are, it opens a whole can of worms. So much drama ensues, people start commenting and trying to sabotage your relationship. They are jealous because you did such a great job to make others believe your living Happily Ever After.
I had a friend who was dating a handsome guy in graduate school. She had always had a Facebook but he didn’t. One day after they started legitimately dating he decided to create one. Well my friend became so jealous of all the women who were hitting on him in his pictures that she made him take down his account. That is a typical example of social media destroying real life. I like to say a private life is a happy life. A lot of people become depressed because they can’t help but see how everyone’s whole life is plastered all over their Facebook. They think they’re missing out on so much and everyone else is so happy and living on top of the world. Everyone is smiling and laughing while they are jet setting to the Bahamas, drinking Pinot Noir in the winery of northern California and so madly in love.
I fell prey to that too. But when I think about it I know it’s a farce, especially when some of those people I know personally and suffer from delusions anyway are really full of bullshit. I had one friend in high school who I never got along with although we shared some commonalities. She always had her head up her ass thanks to her parents. She has a grandiose and narcissistic view of herself anyway thanks to her upbringing and once Facebook was created it was like she stepped foot into Six Flags Great Adventure. If I didn’t know her real story I would think she married Prince Charming and oh so rich like she loves to pretend to be. I had the honor of attending her wedding. Of course it was beautiful and like a fairy tale. She had almost no friends to invite but managed to find people to complete her wedding party. She had mentioned all these friends she had made since college when we played ‘catch up’ but I didn’t see any at her wedding.
She bought this mermaid style dress with a tiara, a typical Cinderella gown a little girl would dream of wearing. She had her reception/ceremony at a picturesque venue in a grand ballroom with marble floors and crystal chandeliers. She had cocktail hour and scrumptious hors-d’oeuvres. She had a chocolate fountain, banana split and her wedding cake was red velvet. Her ceremony was outside in a garden. She’s been married over a year now, oddly enough she got married on my birthday, and she still loves to plaster her wedding photos all over the place. She has pictures of her sitting on a boat with huge black sunglasses sharing smiles with her hubby drinking bubbly on a boat in the Hamptons.
She lives all the way out on Long Island a stones throw away from the Hamptons so she frequents that area a lot. She wants people to believe she’s part of high society soaking in all the opulence the Hamptons provides for yuppies. If I didn’t know her I would think she got everything she wanted. As a child her mother raised her to find a man she could boss around and buy her Tiffany’s jewelry. She had always said she would marry someone with money like a doctor or lawyer. Well thanks to the inception of Facebook, she could fool people into thinking her childhood dream came true….However, I know her real story and know it is all smoke and mirrors like her delusional mind enables her to be.
In reality, her life is the complete opposite. She married a man from a broken home who dropped out of college. He is a janitor and his mother flipped out a long time ago. I must say though, she did find someone to kiss her ass. He won the lottery when he met her. He never had such a tight-knit family like my old friend, especially one with money. She lived the spoiled life like I did but her father supports her every move like most fathers’ do for their children. Her father is a nice and spunky man who is an engineer. He is now the VP of his firm. I used to be jealous of her when we were kids. She’s the only child and would go away every year to so many lavish resorts. I remember wishing my parents liked to do that. Her parents have an idyllic marriage from Leave it to Beaver. I was especially jealous the year she went to Atlantis in the Bahamas. I remember seeing pictures of the new resort at the time and was cringing with envy inside. She’s been to so many famous restaurants all over New York and her father has such a good spirit about him while spinning around in his Audi TT.
She’s still happy though and living in Never Never Land. When I reconnected with her as an adult and went to her bachelorette party and wedding I realized why we fought constantly in high school. I can’t talk to someone like this who is from a different planet than me. I wish I could feel like her though but unfortunately, the real world won’t let me.
I must admit that I fell into this Facebook Black Hole too. I had signed up for it from the beginning, my college was one of the first ones to be on it. I was on it for so many years, I would say at least 10. Like I told you, I am an attention whore and became so obsessed with it by posting infinite pictures of me all over the concrete jungle gallivanting with friends just like the people I am mocking. When I would see people in person after viewing my pictures they would tell me how I am having the time of my life. “I saw you at Ph.D. Hotel at that rooftop party! Who was the good-looking guy next to you?” I scratched my head thinking what guy are they talking about? I had to do my best to pretend I was as happy and jovial just like my pictures presented to the world. I almost felt like an actress being asked to express euphoria. I became so addicted and obsessed that I would feel the urge to sign on every minute. Don’t ask me why there was nothing life changing waiting for me.
Social media has also become another avenue to spite someone. Even if it’s someone so important to you like your own mother. I used to be so petty that in an act of revenge after a fight with my mom I would resort to blocking her! How disgusting is that? My own mother? Is this really the person I become? I had friends that told me that they refuse to accept their family’s friend request(s), that is ridiculous and sad. But yes, like I said that is why I refer to this as a Black Hole, not just a ‘social networking site’ like Facebook was created to be.
Facebook accommodates more drama into your personal life by offering you with more options than just ignoring someone’s calls and texts, you could now block them and they will go crazy. They will be so insulted you blocked them. I agree. Who would want to be blocked? I was furious too. They are non verbally telling you to ‘go fuck yourself.’ Needless to say, I was delusional myself, even when I was completely stressed and miserable while displaying my “euphoric pictures.” Every year for my birthday I would make such a scene and big production over it by creating my “Facebook invitation” and sending it to everyone while trying to choose the most glitzy and alluring birthday picture to symbolize my gathering. I would drive myself insane trying to pick out the best venue after all my birthday is in the summer so I have many more enticing options such as rooftops lounges and breaking out my summer wardrobe which has been tucked away for so long because it always feels like it is always cold here in New York.
I also loved to post many statuses on there (I obviously love to write) and got into many arguments with people regarding what they or I posted. After all, this is a social networking site and part of it is to allow other people to comment on everything they see. In addition to reconnecting with your prior acquaintances that you couldn’t live without (how did you go for so long losing touch with such an important fixture in your life B.F. (Before Facebook)? it now makes room for new people to come in who are mostly a waste of time.
There are many social events that organizers love to also use Facebook for so they display their mixers/parties/events on there, by creating invitations with the hopes of drawing a crowd. I must be gorgeous because I got so many friend requests from guys that I had seen me feign interest on attending some of these parties which I did go to that it became more of a headache than anything else. I also met new friends on there who attended the same organized parties that it felt like more of a clique from high school than in real life.
Every time I scrolled through my news feed I couldn’t help but notice how we all had the same mutual Facebook friends and when I asked them how they knew this person they would say they met here and there. I couldn’t believe that someway and somehow almost everyone who attended these same sponsored parties knew each other in some way. It really did feel like high school. Not only did it feel immature but I remember thinking that I did not want to meet people who all knew each other. It’s not to protect my anonymity it was so other people wouldn’t know my business and who I was befriending.
And what if I started dating someone from these same events? Everyone would know which is none of their business. Even worse they might have hooked up or dated someone else before me that I knew and that grosses me out. I do not go for sloppy seconds, it’s like wearing a pair of my friend’s dirty underwear. Just the mere fact that I could place a face with the girl he had relations with is enough of a buzzkill (and yes this exact circumstance has happened before), unfortunately, I found out after the fact.
I was so out of it back then that when I would meet someone who told me they did not have a Facebook account I would think it was a red flag. What did they have to hide? I would think to myself. Ha Ha, I want to slap myself in the face for thinking that now. Then there are the people who are stalking you or creating a false account to use as a rouse to try to see what you are posting. That has happened to me too. I finally came to the end of my rope but cannot take any credit for it. My mother ended up joining the bandwagon and signing up for it. She told me how dumb this is and how everyone is full of shit. She was on it for several years already and mentioned just deleting it. The light bulb went off in my head. “What a great idea! How come I never thought of that? Facebook is so stupid, you’re right.” However, for some odd reason, I cannot answer my mother has reopened hers. Although she doesn’t converse with anyone of importance either, she’ll sometimes “fill me in” about the trivial people I left behind on there such as what they’re eating for dinner.
I can’t forget about the other people I left behind too. If you’ve been following my blog and got an idea of my background you know who I am referring to. This Facebook scenario is quite unique thanks to my former and strange friend. She is originally from Texas and an attorney (with little or no logic) and took great fun in mocking guys she met on Tinder by copying and pasting conversations she’s had with them on her FB statuses. She decided it wasn’t enough just to vent to her friends personally about how she was wronged and mistreated and how such and such a person is a jerk, she thought it was better to air out her dirty laundry and let everyone on her friends list read this BS verbatim while she roasts him. Juvenile much? Well if you knew this woman it is apropos and part of her M.O. She’s immature anyway and loves to snap photos of childish things such as petting zoos, dogs and candy stores on her social media pages. She highly enjoys carnivals and is more like a kid than an adult.
Now when I meet new people and some ask me if I am on Facebook I tell them no. I get some surprised responses. “Why?” I became somewhat agitated and don’t know how to surmise this into a concise answer so I just say, “because it’s stupid.” One woman was actually insulted that I said this. I am not even on Facebook anymore and it still provokes an argument! “I have a lot of family in Europe that I like to stay in touch with,” she defensively replied. I politely told her that it is fine and a great reason to be on it. I told her there is no one on there I feel like staying in touch with nor care what they are up to and the ones I care about have my number.
I feel like out of all of the social media vehicles, Facebook is the most intricate and inter webbed site to wreak havoc. It’s not all in black and white like Instagram is. I love Instagram and feel like it is an exception because: 1. It is only pictures 2. You either make your account private or public for the world to see. There are no little and tedious privacy settings for each picture/post. 3. There are so many people on there that start interest groups and posts their ideas according to what you like, almost like Pinterest. Yes, you could still comment on people’s pictures but it doesn’t leave much room for drama due to the simplistic way Instagram is set up.
I was desperate looking for new places to live. I was in such a hurry and frantic that someone trying to help me had suggested Facebook. “I hate Facebook!” I sputtered. The guy was nice and trying to lend me a helping hand although his help was limited. He told me that he knows people who find housing on there such as Gypsy Housing. I was so desperate and only had a few days to leave that out of pure desperation I reactivated my account. I already had a blank profile because in order to sign up for a lot of apps on your smartphone you need a Facebook. So I had no choice but to bring my blank account to life because my profile and urgent post appeared to be a scam. Other people have convinced me to stay on it due to job opportunities. I was told that it’s also a great avenue to seek new jobs. So due to those two incentives, I was back on it. However, it garnered no results and didn’t help me at all.
I did get more bang for my buck and a surprise from the universe that brief time I was actively on it again. During the few weeks I was actively back on it by posting pictures and the like, I peeked at all of those mixers attended by the same organizers with the same crowd I had just mentioned to you. I thought I was missing out on so much not being updated on these events since I left “Pretend.” As I scrolled through these invitations which felt more like deja vu than anything else, I came across this rooftop party. Of course it reeled me in. The weather is getting warmer and I love rooftops and have been to this venue before and liked the decor.
I clicked on it that I was going. As the night approached of this rooftop party I ended up getting there very late. It was all the way on the L.E.S. and I didn’t time my ETA properly. My friend was there already and gave up waiting for me after an hour. However, as usual I did not miss much and ended up staying only an hour. The same old weirdos and other unsavory characters I either remember from before or new ones that were similar were right where I left them.
Off I exited the four-floor walk up and so bummed that I gave it another try. I had a long hike back home from lower Manhattan to Queens. At that hour the trains run especially slower so as I waited on the platform for the subway to arrive I released all the frustration out by exhaling once I sat down on the train while feeling overwhelmed with all the lit up local stops I saw in front of me. Cell phone service is mostly spotty in the tunnel so my reception cut in & out. As I am sitting there at midnight bracing myself for the hour-long ride back uptown I see on my phone a friend request. It happened to pop on my screen during that brief blip of service underground.
The man looked handsome and definitely someone I would want to get to know. His name was Joe and he had an alluring and tasteful picture of him in eyeglasses and a suit. I have a thing for classy men, especially ones donned in eyeglasses that emulate Leonardo DiCaprio…..It didn’t take me long to get excited to check out this guy’s profile. However MTA had to make me wait until I got off the train in order for my cell phone service to resume. After seeing his picture right when I boarded the train I felt like a kid during Christmas. I felt like I had this ornately wrapped present waiting right in front of me but I had to wait till tomorrow once it was Christmas to open it. That’s how it felt.
I finally got home and I turned on my desktop and couldn’t sign on to Facebook fast enough. This guy had tons of pictures of himself, mostly of him attending all kinds of fundraising events for the IDF of Israel. This guy is culturally Jewish and is actively involved in philanthropy work involving Israel and their wounded soldiers. After accepting his friend request during the late hour, I inevitably received an instant message from him the next morning.
He thanked me for accepting his request. “I went through the list of people attending the event and I knew it would be a complete waste of time. The guys looked like jerks. As I was scrolling through the roster I saw your picture and I had to contact you. You are so pretty so I figured instead of having to go all the way there to meet you, why not contact you on here instead? It’s called ‘time efficiency.’ I was so flattered after reading that on my computer screen that it felt impalpable to the point of him being able to see how I felt as if he was in front of me. The more he spoke via I.M. the more I was speechless. It was almost as if he knew what exactly I was looking for in a mate, he completed each desire on my romance checklist. 1. 3 years my senior 2. Finance Guy 3. Doesn’t do any drugs/hates smoking 4. Mature and looking to settle down 5. Tall 6. Lives in midtown 7. Funny 8. Complimentary. 9. Family oriented…….Need I say more? I was thanking Rhonda Byrne from The Secret. Ask. Believe. Receive. and how unexpected? He dropped from the sky right on to my lap! the law of attraction really works!
He also mentioned speaking on the phone right away. I gave him more brownie points for that because due to the millennial generation not many guys converse via phone anymore. I happily accepted his phone conversation and sent him my number. He called within a reasonable time like he said and seemed like the whole package. He carried on a mature conversation a person who had was looking at the bigger picture would ask, what are your common interests? what do you do for a living? Yadda, yadda, yadda.
“Do you like any sports?” He asked.
“Yes, I enjoy tennis and basketball.”
“What about baseball? I like going to Mets and Yankees games.”
“Really? I thought people were either fans of one or the other team. No, I hate baseball. I find it extremely boring and watching paint dry.”
“Well, you could join me! If you’re with me that is all that matters.”
“You’re right. It’s not where you are but the company you are with.” He loved that answer.
And my personal favorite, “How tall are you”? I knew he had to be tall to ask a question like that. “5 foot 9. How tall are you?” “6 foot 1”.
Initially, the conversation had somewhat of a bumpy start due to misunderstanding. You see this mixer was Jewish oriented but not religious at all and is welcome for anyone to go. He was under the impression that I would call myself “Jewish” and I had to immediately correct that. I told him that I am spiritual and although if you look at my family tree among the mix of genealogy there are Jewish roots but nowhere to the point where I would be deemed or prescribe to being “Jewish”. I told him I don’t adhere to organized religion. I passionately expressed my distaste for certain sects of the Jewish community and horrid experiences I’ve had with members of The Tribe and the more I tried to say it in an indifferent & non-offensive way the more he grew frustrated with me and almost hung up the phone. “Why did you attend a Jewish mixer if you aren’t even Jewish? I can’t date someone who is atheist!” He huffed.
Me: “I am not an atheist, I never said that. I just happen to know from my personal experiences that most Jews are egotistical and egocentric about their faith. I’ve worked with Syrian clients throughout the years and they have even told me that no one could convert, it felt like it was a clique no one could get into. I even had some Orthodox guy try to lure me in on Facebook and tell me the Talmud states that only ‘Jewish people’ go to heaven, everyone else go somewhere else. And how come it is so much money to join a temple? Churches rely on donations.”
Joe: “The temples I go to are free and I am very culturally open. You just had bad experiences before and you shouldn’t let that ruin you.”
Me: “You’re right. Ok. I’ll be your Ivanka Trump (the fat version, Ivanka is a tree branch) and you could be my Jared Kushner if you could answer this one question: Would you consider me Jewish although no one on my mother’s side is, only on my father’s side? Because I know according to Jewish faith you are what your mother is and even if your father is Jewish you are still not considered Jewish. Do you agree with that too?”
Joe: “Of course I would still think of you as Jewish. Like I said, I am very culturally open.” After that, I was sold. I loved and respected the fact that he was so accepting, like I told him, most Jewish people I encountered are very close minded and have somewhat of a cavalier attitude.
We had first corresponded with each other on Friday afternoon. He kept calling me throughout the day. We made plans to meet up on our first date that Sunday. “I am going to a Jewish Greek festival on Sunday, would you like to join me?” That was a buzz kill. What is romantic and tempting about going to a gathering under the hot sun underneath an umbrella packed with people all the way downtown? When I didn’t jump on that he offered, “Or we can go to a museum. How do you like the MoMa? There’s an exhibit there that I’d like to see.” My eyes lit up after hearing that. “I love museums! Sounds wonderful,” I enthusiastically replied. “If it works out between us we could hit up all the museums all over New York,” he replied. “You know I’m related to the artist Salvador Dali, he is a second cousin of my mother. My parents retired to Israel and I visit them once a year.”
“Interesting. Usually, everyone retires down in Florida. Your parents are quite unique.” I said jokingly. I don’t think he appreciated that comment because there was only silence on the other end of the phone.
“I just landed a new position at Morgan Stanley, I have my M.B.A. which my job had paid half the tuition for. I love coffee too! Dunkin Donuts is my favorite!” I thought I was dreaming as I listened to all this.
After we got through the first “Jewish roadblock” I was in awe of him. As soon as I told him my obsession for coffee that Dunkin Donuts helps fuel for me like a drug, he jumped on that like white on rice. “I love Dunkin Donuts too! They just opened one around the corner from me. If we start dating we could go together all the time. I live in midtown east and used to live in Queens where you do. It is not a far distance at all, we could spend a lot of time together.” Then my smoke alarm went off in my apartment and I had to cut him off & tell him I’d call him back. “Sorry about that. Okay great, Sunday at the MoMA at 3:30, it’s a date,” as I hung up the phone with butterflies fluttering in my stomach.
Throughout the next 48 hours, we both exchanged text messages/phone conversations. He subsequently texted me with words to the effect of how he feels a connection between us and how he will call me later. He had informed me that he had a big fundraiser event that evening into the following night on Saturday for Israeli soldiers suffering from PTSD. He seemed kind & funny and accompanied his heartfelt texts with emojis. I told him I do not really like texting and I am not a typical millennial, I prefer to converse on the phone. He called me right away and told me how he refused to take a girl out on a date because she wasn’t interested in speaking on the phone.
After coming back home that night while he was at his event I told him I didn’t have dinner yet and was contemplating stuffing my face with junk like pizza from Pizza Hut. This guy is lean and tall and looks like he goes to the gym like he said. I thought it was endearing that he didn’t hold it against me that I like to eat junk food every now & then. He was even sweet to add how he enjoys that stuff too. Of course, I said yeah, right, certainly doesn’t look like you do. After texting him the picture of the pizza I bought that night he told me to enjoy it. He wasn’t snobby at all or nasty like some people might be to think it’s so horrible to indulge in junk food every once in a while, especially since he is in good shape. He wanted to see me that evening he said. He had finished early that Friday night with the soldiers and he said he would ditch joining them at the bowling alley to instead meeting me spontaneously. The thought was tempting but I was up early that morning and looked and was exhausted, so I kindly declined this impromptu date. He understood.
As Sunday afternoon approached I got excited and was curious to see what was in store for me. I was happy we were meeting in person right away and not wasting time just talking for weeks, another quality I liked about him is that he mentioned seeing me right away, he wasn’t a time waster or looking for a pen pal. It turned out I was a little late in meeting him at the MoMa. I texted him that I was running almost 30 minutes late with an apology. He was there already and more than understood, ending the text with another happy face. When I finally got off the train the museum was right down the block. I felt my heart thumping in my chest as I approached the entrance. I didn’t see him and I called him to ask where he was and told him where I was standing. “I am across the street at Starbucks. Oh, I see you. Are you wearing a blue and white shirt?” He asked. “Yes, that is me,” I replied. “I am wearing white & blue too.” Then a minute later there he stood in front of me. He was nicely dressed in the typical New York “financial uniform.” I made a cute joke of how it looked like we were twins because my shirt was blue and white pin stripes and his tie & blazer was blue with a white button-down shirt. He was donning beautiful Armani eyeglasses which made me salivate. I couldn’t help but notice a stain on the size of his blazer. It looked like chocolate. I decided not to say anything though, I didn’t want to be annoying. It’s not like he could take out the stain right then and there anyway.
With his decent looks and hopefully good personality, I’ll want to rip his clothes off at the end of this exhibit, I uttered in my head. He was decent looking like I thought and personality goes a long way. He had the foundation to be very attractive in my opinion if his personality was appealing.
We walked in and it was so crowded. It was swarming with mostly tourists every which corner. The MoMa is beautiful. A modern building with several floors with escalators and the lobby has a courtyard outside. I haven’t been there in years, he helped remind me to come back here again. He was a member of the museum and as soon as he paid for my admission we proceeded to go up the stairs. On the escalator he already started flirting with me. He put his hands on my hips and told me how pretty I was. I felt so embarrassed and blushing at the same time as he said this for everyone to hear. “It’s not what you’re doing but who you’re with.” He repeated this at least two times. He was referencing what I said on the phone about baseball. I must’ve been really annoyed because I am usually not so mean with sarcasm. I ended up saying, “You said this twice! How many more times are you going to keep repeating the same line?” However after that, the date quickly waned. I was pretty disappointed to say the least. It declined gradually and then crashed down suddenly. It first started with rude gestures. He was glued to his phone as we looked at art that it didn’t even seem like he was interested. I just decided that I would walk alone to many of the paintings while he stood mesmerized at his iPhone. “I just have to edit this one picture,” he told me. He had all of these pictures on his phone.
These particular ones were the pictures he took at the Jewish Greek festival he went to before he met up with me. Then he started obnoxiously yawning. He didn’t even try to do it covertly as to not appear rude to yawn in front of someone with whom they were on a date with. “You’re bored already?” I half-joked. “Oh, I got only 3 hours of sleep.” Then he seemed to have a mean edge about him. “Look at all these tourists. They stand in front of these paintings like they are in a trance. It’s so weird. That’s how you could tell they are from another country.” He seemed so angry about it too as if they’ve done something to him. All of these obnoxious and rude antics and gestures began to add up where I could feel my threshold of his nonsense finally breaking.
“Did you hear what I said Joe?” He had walked in front of me as I was trying to make conversation with him. This was only our first date and he wasn’t even hiding how big of a douche bag he is yet! At least save it for a few dates later. ” I could hear you,” he said defensively.
“Well, usually when you are listening to someone you face the person as they are speaking to you,” I angrily replied.
I would throw some harmless comments here and there that he also was angry about. “You know, contrary to popular belief a lot of Israeli people are non religious.” That made him so angry. “So? and some are religious!” He yelped. Then I figured I would taunt him.
“I know Jewish people with tattoos can’t be buried in a Jewish cemetery. Well, my grandfather had a tattoo and was buried in one! Haha.”
He had a look of total distaste with a mean comment in return I don’t recall. Then he would have bouts of his genuine side again. He kept flip-flopping from nice and sweet, to rude, obnoxious that began to piss me off.
I would’ve had more respect for him if he was a 100% douche bag rather than turning it on and off every minute like a light switch. I still kept my mouth shut and did not explode at him yet although all of his douche bag behavior was beginning to grate on my nerves. I was interested in all the paintings, there were so many of course. There were times where I lost him in the crowd as he was so busy with his phone that I didn’t care if I found him again. But he would resurface.
He peeked his head up from his phone screen, “Oh, that is a Picasso!” He said. As if to show off that he is so well cultured and knows so much about art.
I was disappointed & felt let down. If only he didn’t have such a shitty personality I could’ve liked him. But I didn’t want to give up on him yet. I thought maybe it would pass and beneath the surface, he would act like the guy I hoped he would be. I had planned to have my picture taken in front of one of the paintings because: 1. I love pictures 2. I love art 3. I love to take pictures next to art. I was thinking which painting and which time would be ideal to ask him to snap a photo of me using my iPhone. He impatiently took one. “You look great. Let’s go!”
As we were walking by I saw a little baby hysterically crying in their father’s arms. I could never have babies with this man, I thought to myself. I couldn’t even make eggs with him, my biological clock spoke out to me.
I figured I would still be flirty and see what happens. Why not? I had nothing to lose, I had all the time on my hands. “What are you doing after this exhibit?” I said in an innocent and implying tone.
“Spending it with you,” he answered. I told him great, what did he have in mind.
“Wine or a cafe?” He offered me. I thought it might be sexy if we had a glass of vino. I had imagined him taking me to a nice wine bar or rustic pub not too far from here. So I went with his offer of wine. After spending only an hour at the museum, he had told me beforehand it was a short exhibit and wouldn’t take too long to see for reasons I did not understand. It’s a large building with tons of paintings that take all day to see but whatever, I was ready to go already and couldn’t stand these crowds and feeling packed in a sardine can any longer. Off we exited the museum. It was kind of cool outside, not a great day but not freezing or raining either. I couldn’t wait to see where we would share this glass of wine as we strolled through midtown east.
We proceeded to Park Avenue. “This is where I started my financial career,” he proudly chanted to me.
“Do you see that building they’re constructing over there? Jlo and A-Rod will be living there soon.”
I felt like he was raining on my parade. This is my Park Avenue Bliss! I love it around here and think of it as my sanctuary and this douche is ruining it for me!
“I want to show you the east river, it’s beautiful. There’s a terrace with such a nice view.”
“The east river? I used to work around there. It’s all the way on the upper east side.”
“No, it’s right here. Not many people know about it. I know more places around here than most Native New Yorkers do,” he stated in a matter of fact tone.
As we proceeded walking the following blocks the conversation grew more abrasive. My optimism and benefit of his doubt fell further down the wayside.
He kept prodding me by asking me how much it would cost for a one bedroom in the city when he knew that that had nothing to do with me, I had roommates.
“Why brainstorm? That has nothing to do with me.” He kind of imitated what I said in a childish way.
He even had the nerve by asking me personal questions about my family. That’s none of his business.
He went on a rant about disgusting it is to smoke. How could people enjoy smoking? It causes cancer and smells horrible. I agreed with him of course but he went on about it as if it was a monologue so he could sound bright by hearing the sound of his own voice. He dismissively ignored my response.
All of a sudden there was a huge building under construction. It was right in front of us with no cones or signs to walk around the crane to inform everyone to be careful, construction workers are laying bricks on the roof.
“This is ridiculous!” He shouted. “There should be roadblocks and signs, how else is anyone supposed to know there is major construction going on? This is dangerous! People have been killed!” Just like that, he acted like a Good Samaritan and God himself by helping everyone by telling them to follow him so he could find a safe way to avoid the construction. Two old women were mesmerized by his “social graces.” He led the way as if he was showing the pedestrians who were following him to the promised land. He was so proud that he was doing a good deed.
“He’s a keeper,” the old women told me. I remained quiet. At this point, I was fuming inside and was tempted to reply with a nasty, sarcastic comment by saying “you date him then,” but chose to just be silent.
He ended up saying to me, “why didn’t you talk to those ladies? You were so quiet.” He seemed disappointed that I didn’t help bolster his narcissism.
“Because I didn’t feel like it. I don’t know those women. I don’t have to feel obligated to talk to strangers.”
“I have to pee,” he said. We had approached his gym, Equinox. He told me to wait right in front so he could relieve himself. He came out shortly after.
Then he said, “One more minute.” Next to the Equinox was a juice bar. He walked inside to take two plastic cups with him. That was all I could bear! This guy wasn’t any douche, he was a cheap douche! Yuck. I immediately knew I had to bolt out of this “date” already. Is he serious? Who does he think I am? His idea of a date was to be frugal or should I say cheap by going to the closest liquor store to buy a bottle of wine that would cost less than two glasses at a bar! He figured he would then try to seduce me after by asking me up to his apartment. It dawned on me that this whole area of his gym was where he lived. He had it all planned out. Get some cheap wine in plastic cups, check. Go to the east river where there is a nice view while drinking the wine (cost nothing), check. Maybe get lucky and invite her up after? Hopefully…
All within the radius of his residence! I should’ve offered my students’ sippy cups from the preschool, at least we would be helping the environment by not wasting the ones from the juice bar.
“I have an emergency! While you were in the bathroom my friend texted me. She just had this disastrous date from a guy on Tinder and needs my moral support. She’s a great friend of mine. She wants me to meet her back at home.”
“What?” he said incredulously. “Can’t you just call her?”
“No, it’s too noisy, and she’s with a group of people. She’s a really good friend of mine. I can’t let her down. I must attend to her needs.”
“Please, just for a few minutes, I want to show you this beautiful view! Then you could go join your friend.” He pleaded.
“Fine. But just a few minutes. She needs me A.S.A.P.”
After a few seconds, he thought about it. “You know what? You’re right. You must be there for your friend. If she has an emergency you must help her out. I need to get going anyway and meet up with a few relatives.” Then he slams the two plastic cups on the ledge of a brownstone next to him and then turns to leave while putting his thumb up in a facetious way. He littered! That bastard. Couldn’t he at least take the cups with him?
We went our separate ways.
I walk around the corner relieved I got away from him. Shortly followed by a text. It’s Joe Schmuck. He couldn’t text me fast enough. “I am sorry but this won’t work out. Good luck to you.” I then sign on quickly to my Facebook. He already blocked me! He texted me and blocked me all in 5 minutes!
Not only is Facebook a complete waste of time but like I said another way to screw someone over by blocking them. Although in this situation I couldn’t care less.