In Which Our Intrepid Hero Ponders His Past Relationships

As you probably can tell from the title of this amazing blog as well as various posts, our intrepid hero is single.  Quite single.  In New York.  And not the rocking awesome single from sitcoms and HBO, but the overworked-lack-of-sleep-don't-feel-like-going-out-would-rather-just-go-home-and-sleep single.

However, this wasn't always the case.  Last year I was in a long term relationship.  Things started off well.  I was excited to meet my new significant other.  I'd heard a lot about him, but we'd never really met face to face.  Things started a bit rocky as we started to get used to each other, but then things went smoothly.  Granted, sometimes we would grate on each other's nerves, like when I wanted him to speed up and he seemed to just take his sweet old time.  Then again, at times he would demand attention from me at the most inopportune times, like when I just wanted to watch TV or sleep or have some single time (which btw, I believe everyone, even those in relationships, should have).

Sometimes I wouldn't check in with him and then guilt would wash over me.  He never got angry, but I could always tell he was just...disappointed.  Anyway, what started out as a casual relationship soon became all consuming.  He seemed to follow me around constantly, always wanting my attention.  Even if I told him I would be away for a weekend and hence, unreachable, I would still have to check in with him the moment I got home.  There were no boundaries.  11 AM, 3 AM, 11 PM, it didn't matter.  When he called, I had to pick up.

Eventually, it came time for us to break up.  I remember the giddy excitement I had when we first met.  But when it came time to part ways, it was like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders.  I couldn't wait.  I actually still have some of his stuff, but I don't think he really cares.

If you're curious, here's his picture.

Also known as the Electronic Leash

When I broke up with my work Black Berry (and by broke up, I mean forced willingly giving it back when I got laid off), my life became a whole lot freer.  Sure, sometimes it sucks not being able to check my email constantly, but I think the trade off is totally worth it.

Of course, I bounced back quickly.  After all, me and the Electronic Leash weren't completely monogamous.  I had my little trick on the side.  Now he's not really all that flashy, but he gets the job done.  He's there when I need him and if I don't check in for a while, he doesn't get all clingy on me.  Sure he's not quite the status symbol of Mr. Berry, but you know what?  Maybe I'm just a simple, low maintenance kind of guy.  I get my calls, I get my texts, and I even have a nifty little slide out keyboard.

At least I don't feel guilty ignoring him when he rings at 3:00 AM

In our hunt for a meaningful relationship, we're usually fighting between holding out for "the best" or settling down.  But what is the best?  And what do you do if you really can't afford the best?  Do you still hold out for it?  Do you find a way to get it no matter the cost?

An iPhone may look sleek and shiny and be a status symbol.  But it freezes up just like a frigid trophy wife when you try to hold it in public.  Is that what you want?  Or do you settle with a utility phone without the bells and whistles but won't drop your calls and doesn't mind driving the kids to soccer in a green minivan?  Perhaps you settle for a mid-range Droid, with a few hiccups here or there but mostly works.  But then, do you get iPhone envy?  And do the flashy iPhoners ever wonder what life would be like with something simpler?  Let's recall that the iPhone tracks your every move like Dido a crazy stalker and can only be used with certain accessories you have to buy at a premium.  Hello, can we say "baggage"?

Plus let's recall our lesson from last week, when we learned that joining a cult isn't usually a good idea

But the snazziness of your significant other isn't the only consideration.  Are you the type of person that wants to date around casually and try new things?  Maybe you're not ready for the commitment of a year long contract, so you try something month to month.  Or maybe you're looking for a little extra security, and you worry that if you wait too long, the deal will vanish into this air?  Are you looking for a cheap date who doesn't mind sitting at home and watching movies while eating delivery Chinese, or is your Nobu-loving date only worth it if you invest in their unlimited data plan?

And finally, when it comes to upgrading, what do you do?  Do you stand by the date that's stood by you, or are you in line two days early when Cult Leader Jobs announces something new?  Do you anxiously wait for upgrades or do you not really care?  Are you quick to jump on the next big thing, or do you wait to make sure that they're not completely crazy or have other issues?

In the end, only you can make these decisions, but hopefully, the way you find a phone will help you cope with your own love life.  Or heck, perhaps your own love life can help you deal with your phone anxiety.  But seriously, it's just a phone.  I mean, being able to load Angry Birds on your phone isn't going to help get you laid, no matter what Steve Jobs may tell you.  Now Grindr on the other hand...

In Which Our Hero Learns That Some People Are Just Dumb

Today, dear readers, I will present you with a tale of mirth and woe from my own attempts to find love and companionship in this modern era.  Hopefully, this story and the others that follow will help you on your own quest to find (or keep) love.  Or provide you with a healthy dose of schadenfreude.


This is the story of the DOC Moment.  The DOC Moment is that moment in any crush when you go from thinking "Love love love crush crush love love" to "Jesus Christ on a Tricycle What Did I Ever See in You?"  I was originally planning on titling this story "The DOC Moment:  A Parable," but I was informed that parables are made up.  This, I am saddened to say, is all too true.  Of course, I need not mention that I have changed the names to protect the innocent players.


Our story begins when our intrepid hero decided to go out to a local bar to attract a mate.

I believe the message here is "Don't Drop the Soap"

Now not all the stereotypes about gay bars are true.  For example, unlike what you may hear, the drinks are actually too strong too weak reasonably priced technically alcoholic and the bartenders are truly masters of the craft lifetime professionals shirtless.  Anyway, I'd never actually been to a gay bar before, but I put on my hottest pair of jeans, a rockin' shirt, and went on my merry way.  Anyway, all and all, the night was a success.  I had some drinks and chatted with a few guys.  And I met the central figure in this story...Super Cute Bartender.

There's not much to say about SCB.  Now I'll be honest, he was cute.  That's really all he had going for him.  And to this day I will maintain that he was just trying to get a better tip flirting with me.  But yes, he was nice, we chatted a bit, and I thought we hit it off.  So over the next couple months, I would go by the bar* and if he was there, we would continue to chat.  And I would think to myself "Hey, maybe there's something here."
*Technically, I was going to the bar to interact with people.  But let's not delude ourselves.  I would sometimes go just because SCB was working there.  This, cats and kittens, is called "desperation."  Or "stalking," depending on how nice you are being.  Don't do it.

Yes.  Looking back on it, I was probably deluding myself.  Anyway, so after a few weeks of said flirting/tipping, I decided to just cut the crap and tell SCB what I felt.  The following was my itinerary (I'm not making this up...I actually posted this publicly at one time)

Medication and nap so feeling good: Check
Homework done so nothing left to do tonight: Check
Look at my ass jeans: Check

Anyway, so it turned out SCB was dating someone else, he was flattered, blah blah blah.  That should have been the end of it, but nooooooooo.  I continued to talk/flirt/tip and do the entire amusing self-delusion thing when you're like "Well, maybe if I'm just awesome enough, they'll break up and start to date me."

Ok, before we continue, let me go on a little tangent here.  Said thoughts should never enter your head.  If they do, banish them immediately, using tequila if necessary.  You really don't want someone to break up to be with you.  It always ends badly for everybody.  And you never know if they got crabs from their previous SO.

Back to the story at hand.  I continued to harbor feelings for SCB.  For an ENTIRE YEAR.  Yes you read that right.  A year of one-sided unrequited love with someone with the personality of a garden hose.  Perhaps I was feeling masochistic.  Perhaps I was in love with the idea of being in love.  Or maybe I was just trying to delude myself into thinking there was something more than just free drinks (yes, I got a lot of free drinks...I tip well)

Charlotte York, eat your heart out

So anyway, our one-sided flirtation continued for quite some time.  It continued despite when asking a friend if there was something "there," he responded with "Do you mean between you two or between his ears?"  It continued despite many friends telling me his personality left something to be desired and I was way too smart and ambitious for him.  It continued despite being told I truly was spending way to much time pining over someone who wasn't interested in me.

I maintain it wasn't an all-consuming crush, but I'm sure there are others who would differ on this point (feel free to comment).  But this crush came to a crashing halt one summer day, when I brought along my intrepid friend Daisy to the bar with me "just to get a drink and totally not to merely flirt with the bartender" (she didn't buy it).  The conversation took place in August, 2008, or right around the time Obama was going to officially be nominated for President and we were introduced to The Mama Grizzly herself.

The conversation went something like this:

Me:  "So how are things going."

SCB:  "Blah blah blah nothing interesting going on here I don't have two brain cells to rub together."

What I heard:  "I am so cool.  Cool cool cool."

One of them has no soul and the other has the personality of an eggplant.  But which one is which?

Apparently, my brain functions on the same wavelength as Bella Swan, turning the most boring things into the most amazing things merely because the speaker's eyes smolder or something.  Although to be honest, SCB wasn't sneaking into my room to watch me sleep.  I hope.  Because that's not sexy.  That's just creepy.  And if someone tells me I'm their personal brand of heroin, I may cut them in preemptive self defense (which is legal in 48 states and Canada)*

*No it's not.  The above statement does not constitute true legal advice.

Me:  "So...are you going to be watching the Convention at all?"  (Recall the time period which I said was important.)

SCB:  "Yeah.  It's the what...the D.O.C.?"
Cricket...cricket

Me, under my breath:  "The DNC...Dumbass"

Now according to Daisy, the "under the breath" was rather loud and rather pointed (except for the "dumbass."  That I managed to somehow keep silent)  I finished my drink and decided it was time to go.  He really was that dumb.  He really was all the things my friends had told me.  And I had finally come to terms with the fact that I was in love with someone who didn't know the most important political event of the summer from a 40-year old rapper.  I would not play the Bella Swan to SCB's Edward, no matter how nice his abs were.  My brain couldn't take it.  My infatuation was over.

So if you or your friends are in an the midst of unrequited love, let this be a lesson to you.  Trying to talk them out of it will do as much good as telling preteens that Edward Cullen is not an ideal boyfriend.  Instead, support them and just patiently wait for the DOC moment.  It may take an entire year but it will come.  And then they'll move on.  And deny they were ever really infatuated in the first place.