Last night, I met Coby at Tarallucci E Vino, an adorable wine and cheese bar on the Upper West Side (highly, recommend). The setting was perfect for a first date on Valentine’s Day. It was low key, not too crowded and romantic without red balloons or pink flowers. I had little to no expectations for the date since I had spoken to Coby several months ago on the phone and didn’t feel like it clicked, but I wanted to go meet him just to be sure and settle any curiosity I had.
Now, perhaps the fact that Coby works for a luxury fashion Mecca should have been a hint that he was way too feminine (to put it kindly) for me. But his position involved overseeing the construction of different sites – so at least he had a manly job in fashion. Right? Wrong. I know it’s important not to be judgmental when going on blind dates, but I should have trusted my gut and judged a bit more than I did.
Coby was the most feminine guy I have ever met. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think there is anything at all wrong with being feminine. Who doesn’t like a guy with a good fashion sense and watched Bravo? But there is a fine line between enjoying designer goods and living for sample sales.
Let’s put it this way, when I asked Coby about his company’s office he described it as “at first being super magical” but the design having worn on him and becoming much more typical and less “special.”
Just when I thought things couldn’t get much worse than that comment, I was flabbergasted when he began to describe, in too much detail, the outfits each of his cousin’s wore to a family gathering last weekend in LA. At least in my opinion, a guy should not know and loosely use the terms “bandage skirt” or “high-heeled leather booties.” I couldn’t help but start to wonder if he was judging my blouse? Where my leggings too casual? What did he think of my boots?! Wait just one second – if I’m doubting my outfit on the first date out of fear of what he may be thinking there was just no way I could see him again.
Two and a half hours later, when he offered to walk me to the subway, I was terrified he might think this meant there would be a goodnight kiss – which there most certainly would not be. A few blocks later when we got to the subway, I initiated an awkward hug and ran down the subway stairs. After this disaster of a date, you can imagine my shock when I got a text from Coby telling me what a great time he had and how he can’t wait to see me again. Oy. I waited until this morning to respond and tell him I thought after meeting we were looking for different things.
So another one bites the dust. At least it made for a good laugh with my roommate when I got home last night and hopefully one step closer to someone special.
XoXo,
MTS
