my dirty little secret

August 6, 2010
by kellie

To continue the dating conversation begun several weeks ago, let me tell you the story of my one and only fadeaway. Here’s what happened (if my parents are reading this, I just want you to know that I make better decisions these days): I was out one night about four years ago with a friend of mine who wanted me to experience Puerto Rican North Philly and the world he came from. We went to several bars over the course of the evening and finally ended up, in the wee hours of the morning, at an after-hours club at 2nd and Erie. (Anyone from Philly knows there’s not a lot of good happening there at 3am.) After a full-body pat down that assured the bouncer that I was unarmed (I was informed shortly thereafter by Jumbo, one of my bar-hopping companions, that the last time he had been there, a shooting had occurred), I entered the club, which was basically a room with a bar on one end and a dance floor on the other. I downed several bottles of Corona – that’s all my friend would allow me to drink that night, other than shots of rum – and noticed a Haitian guy on the dance floor, who, though a bit shorter (my height) than my general tastes run, had fantastic locks. (For those who aren’t in the know, locks refers to dread locks.) I approached him; we danced, flirted, exchanged numbers and then went our separate ways.

Divinity (that’s right, his name was DIVINITY; or at least, that’s what he went by) called me up a few days later, and we made plans to meet up at the movies in the Northeast. (By the way, going on a first date to the movies is a bad idea. Don’t do it.) That went well enough, and we decided to grab some food, so we got in our respective cars (because, let’s be real, I didn’t know this guy, so I wasn’t getting in his car) and headed to Friendly’s on the Boulevard. It was during this ice cream time that I learned that Divinity had OCD (there was an issue with the cleanliness of silverware that ended up with the need for individually wrapped plastic utensils). Not necessarily a dealbreaker, but it has potential to be one depending on the severity. As we said goodnight and I prepared to go my separate way, he asked me why I wasn’t going to sleep with him that night. (If there are any guys reading this that aren’t clear about this, it’s not okay to ask that on a first date. Or ever.) He also pulled out this little gem as he tried to entice me: “Most people think all Haitian men have AIDS, but I don’t. I promise.” YIKES.

At that point, I should have realized that Divinity and I were not going to work out, but, as someone who likes a free meal, I agreed to see him again the next weekend. This time, we went to Kabobeesh, an Indian restaurant at 42nd and Chestnut. (If anyone reading this can explain to me why a man with OCD and hygiene issues would suggest going to an Indian buffet, I would be much obliged. It’s been baffling me for years.) We once again had issues with cutlery and dishes, resulting in full use of paper products, but at least that was accompanied by excessively dull conversation that was strained, at best. He asked me where I lived (since I had yet to let him pick me up for a date), and I vaguely told him the Italian Market, but refused to give him any specifics. The meal ended and he walked me to my car, where he kissed me goodnight and said he’d like to see me again, to which I mumbled something unintelligible and quickly drove away.

While I recognize that I should have been direct with him and just told him I wasn’t interested, I didn’t, and, for the next several weeks, he called and texted quite often. I never answered the phone or responded, and got what I deserved when he started calling upwards of six times a day. I also saw him wandering around my neighborhood once or twice (he never saw me), which made me quite happy in my decision to not tell him exactly where I lived, the main reason being that he had no business being in my neighborhood, since he lived in WILMINGTON, DE. (You can’t really pull the I-just-happened-to-be-in-the-neighborhood thing with distance like that.) I get that I’m charming, but come on.

To make a long story even longer, my point is that, since we’d only been out twice , the fadeaway was an acceptable form of ending things between us. Of course, it’s also true that I wimped out and just couldn’t be direct, and that resulted in my phone and neighborhood both ending up being things I wanted to avoid for a few weeks, but I stand by that fadeaway. If I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, except maybe deciding to go out with a guy named Divinity that I met at a North Philly after-hours club where it was assumed I was carrying a weapon.

So, if this were a fairy tale and I wanted you to take away a moral from this story, here’s what it would be: don’t pick up men in places where people have been shot. There’s no greater dating wisdom I can impart than that.

romantic ramblings of dating novices

July 17, 2010
by stephanie

As (relatively) young, single, working professional women in a city of roughly 1.5 million people (over 200,000 of which are aged 25-34), it seems as though it shouldn’t be quite so difficult to find relatively interesting men to pass some time with (and maybe share some meals with). We’ve both realized that over the 30+ years that we’ve spent stumbling through the urban dating jungle (oh yes, it IS a jungle out there!), we’ve learned our fair share and thought it only made sense for us to spread our warped dating perspectives and experiences to the masses.  (We’re all about helping others, you know.)

Kellie: Dating has never been high up on my list of priorities.  I’m completely okay with not being in a relationship, and, frankly, I’m unsure at this point that I even have the patience for sustained interaction with one person over a substantial length of time.  Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy people and spending time with others, but I also really enjoy being by myself and doing things alone.  Basically, I realize that I’m difficult to get along with at times, and I find others difficult as well.

Stephanie: And I’ve quickly learned to get over my parents’ frequent referral of my cat, Daphne, as their grand-daughter (in fact, I think it kind-of sweet now) or the awkward family gatherings in which my single-dom is an inevitable topic of conversation (nope, haven’t met anyone “special” since our last awkward family gathering two months ago).

Kellie: Recently, I went on a date (for real – the dress and heels kind), and when I mentioned it to my mom, her response was, “I thought you’d given up on humanity.”  I think that perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’m unconcerned with dating either way – whether I do it or not doesn’t really matter to me.  If I found someone that could tolerate my independence, sarcasm, workaholism and addiction to text messaging, while having good taste in music, a dry wit, similar political and social justice views and a steady career, I’d consider “dating” him (or at least getting to know him).  Otherwise, I have friends, family, and undateable men I already hang out with, so I’m all set.

Stephanie: Similarly, I laughed when I first read in “The Rules” the following:  men are the adversary, especially on the first date (caveat:   I did not purchase this book of my own accord… I knew Kellie and I would be doing a dating post so I was trying to do some research.  As a self-respecting, intelligent, single gal, I had to put that out there).  However, as time goes on, I think there is some truth to approaching dating from this position.  At it’s overly-simplistic core, this gem is telling you that you have to be prepared, can’t let your guard down, and make sure that you are armed with the appropriate amount of  artillery to deflect any BS that is bound to head your way from the opposite sex from time-to-time.  Above all else, you can’t let yourself get hurt and, while vulnerability can be the hallmark of a great Audrey Hepburn movie, it can also be the hallmark of your dating downfall.

Kellie: A few weeks ago, Stephanie sent me this article from New York Magazine about “the fadeaway,” which is when a person just sort of disappears from your romantic life, with no explanation and no further contact.  Now, while the merits (or lack of merit) of this approach can be debated, I have my own personal opinion (surprise!), which may or may not be biased based on my own past actions: the fadeaway is perfectly acceptable if you’ve been out with someone less than three times.  If that’s all the time you’ve spent together, you don’t owe them anything, nor do they owe you.  Sorry, folks.  I know we all generally claim that we want closure or an explanation, but, sometimes, it’s just not necessary.

(Also, to be clear, when I say “been out,” I mean official, intentional, I-made-a-conscious-decision-to-spend-time-with-you dates.  Whether you actually decide to call them dates is your own choice.  None of that we-ran-into-each-other-at-bar/party/restaurant/coffee shop-and-spent-some-time-talking business.)

Stephanie: And speaking of the fadeaway….as someone who does not necessarily buy into spiritual, other-wordly pursuits, I have been thinking more and more that my dating karma has turned ugly and the dating gods have forsaken me because of my past indiscretions.  I’ve wondered, did the fadeaway just get pulled on me because of the fadeaway I pulled in 2003? And maybe kissing my ex’s bff at sorority formal was a baaad idea (I blame the massive amounts of white zin for that one.  Yeah, so what, I drank white zin in college.  I was trying to be “classy”).  Is it possible that my proverbial dating hens have come home to roost?  I mean, who knows, but I’ve taken to burning sage just in case….

This is not to say that all is bad or that I’m going to give up and start playing for the other team (I still haven’t completely convinced myself that this isn’t a partial motivation for some men to be complete douche lords:  the hope that their idiocy will force a woman into the arms of another woman – hot).  However, it is to say that we have to be prepared for what we will be faced with when we are out there traversing what can sometimes be a very barren landscape and to do unto others as you would have others do unto you (as much as possible).

So what can be learned from Kellie’s and my somewhat unintentionally constructed dating frameworks?  We’re not sure.  But it sure has been cathartic for us to write about it and, while Kellie and I certainly don’t have the answers to it all, we are hoping that this blog can be a forum for us to not only share what turns us on when it comes to good food but also what turns us on when it comes to good men (and vice-versa, of course).