New Years Eve + Online Dating
I decided to give The Lumberjack (as I so affectionately called him) a chance after a date the previous week went sour. I had a good enough time after a second date with this guy Robert. I wasn’t into him really, but I figured I would give him a chance. It wasn’t until I got home I received a text explaining that “we weren’t a good match”. What the fuck?
The Lumberjack, TL, was away from the city in Alabama visiting family, but he made it a point to keep up a conversation with me. After deleting Roberts number (and any evidence he existed) from my phone I texted TL. “Hey. When you get back, do you wanna hang out?” He responded with an eager “yes, of course!” The only day that worked was New Year’s Eve. We made plans for that afternoon, that way the other wouldn’t feel obligated to see each other into 2015, if we weren’t interested.
I was unusually on time (20 minutes early) and found unusually excellent seats (right at the center of the bar) at this great little place in Nolita, Mothers Ruin. The bar had black and gold balloons floating on the ceiling, and holiday foliage strewn about. The perfect setting for a holiday date with a man I’d nicknamed “Lumberjack” due to his work as a park planner, and was the brains behind restoring parks in Queens. Also, he had a massive beard and only wore flannel.
Ben darted into the bar with a quickness and recognized my face immediately. We exchanged excited “hey’s” and an awkward hug. I found him immediately attractive, considering he looked nothing like the photos on his social media profiles (most of which I found using my excellent FBI skills). We were immediately interrupted as we realized a man wanted to sit next to us date, and we had to scoot down the bar. With that tiny and kind gesture, that man bought us a round of shots. The brown liquid burned all the way down and warmed once it settled in my belly. I was going to need whatever help I could get tonight.
TL ordered our drinks, a gin martini for me and a Sazerac for himself. Our conversation was slow and almost forced at first. I could only think to curse myself for making the worst first date in the history of first dates.
After a drink (3) the ice had broken - we couldn’t stop laughing! We talked about everything. It was story after story with us. He told me a bit about his work, his family and his recent trip to New Orleans. I told him a bit about school, and my love of writing and my last visit to Hawai’i. I know people always talk about those glorious moments of silence you can share with someone where nothing needs to be said at all, for hours, and you’re content. I’ve been a personal witness of those silences. But right now, I wanted to know everything there was to know about The Lumberjack. I wanted our words to cling together and form stacks and stacks of hardcovers.
As we were approaching 7PM, TL suggested we head to this dive bar he knew of. We got up to leave and I saw a girl staring at Ben from the bar. And that’s when I remembered other people existed. That realization was swatted away when TL placed his hand on the small of my back and gently guided me to the door.
We stepped out onto the sidewalk and The Lumberjack had his arm around me at this point, “So. You’re what? 4'9?” I jokingly pushed him away, “4'11, you ass!” Just when I thought I’d seen just about every inch of this goddamned city, we happened upon a garden littered with Greek statues. “This is amazing”, I explained. “You like this? It’s one of my favorite parks in the city.” We kept walking and I gushed over the lingerie boutiques we passed going up on Elizabeth. As the walk went on, we came up on Tacombi, a taco spot, and TL said the most beautiful words my glutton hear had ever heard: do you want guac?
We popped into the sparsely filled and dimly lit restaurant and TL ordered us grapefruit margaritas and chips with guacamole. Our conversation picked right up with our families, raising kids in NYC (both pro) the recent trend of police shootings (both anti) and how we were both raised catholic, but are no longer practicing. We talked about how we were both the black sheep of our siblings. Me being the peaceful vegetarian, and him the earth-friendly, non-religious, horticulture minor.
Our conversation had weaved into the most beautiful tapestry. I wanted to hang it on a wall in the MET so everyone could see the same magic I was seeing. That’s when TL said, “Do you think we should go on a second date?” My heart was screaming “yes”, but I knew if I had learned anything about dating it was that telling the truth would get me nowhere. So I simply said, “I dunno. Let’s see how this one goes, huh?” And TL looked at his drink and back at me, “I think we should.” He took a quick gulp.
From there, we started discussing how people in New York don’t date. I have more dates on me than a library book, and if there was something I knew to be true; it would be that the city of NYC didn’t believe in exclusivity. I went on about my theory about why I’m never in relationships. “I’m too honest”, I started “I don’t believe in refraining from what you want to do. I text people when I want to, I call when I want to, and I tell people exactly how I feel right when I feel it. That’s usually when the guy freaks out and never calls again. And I know it’s improper dating practice, but I’m ok with that. I just hope for the best when I do those things.” Then The Lumberjack said, “Well that’s love. That’s vulnerability. And vulnerability can be a beautiful thing, especially if you think of it in animalistic terms. If an animal lets itself be vulnerable, they either live through it or they die. You know?” My heart was raced.
We stepped out of our table, and again I was met with the realization of the existence of others. True to form, he put his hand on my back and lead me out of the restaurant and towards our third bar. It was around 10 and it was cold when we stood on the corner of Elizabeth and East Houston.The light told us to wait. The Lumberjack towered over me when he asked, “is it ok if I kiss you?”
I was waiting 6 hours for this exact moment. My face was hurting from how long I was smiling. I laughed out a “yes”. He leaned in close and slow, and pressed his lips firmly against mine. The light changed to walk and we broke away and crossed the street. We ducked in to the bar and were met with Jay Z’s ‘The Blueprint’ album. The Lumberjack took my drink order, a gin and tonic, and I found us a table. We sat down and he, a little drunk, shouted at me over the music, “I stole this album from a Best Buy in high school!” I knew this was someone I needed to have around for as long as I could.
We talked and drank more. A Taylor Swift song came on and I bounced in my seat with excitement. “I FUCKING LOVE TAYLOR!”S Something I would never say out loud. We got a little more drunk, and I caught him straight in his eye and said, “you’re perfect!” He looked down, blushing, and said - almost lasciviously- “I have my demons.”
We were at a stand still. It was almost 11 and he suggested we take a cab to Times Square. I shot that idea down when the words fell out of his mouth. “How bout we go back to your place?” He looked like I may have been joking, but he paid our tab and I was out the door looking for a cab. We fell on top of each other in the back seat, and started making out. He pulled the front of my shirt down and started to kiss my chest. Only now do I realize how pissed out cab driver may’ve been. I climbed on top of him, kissing his lips and his neck. We got to Astoria pretty quickly, I assume it was because the driver wanted us out right away.
We stumbled into his apartment. Messy. His three-legged cat came out to greet us and I sat on the wood floors to pet her. Thats when The Lumberjack casually said, "I finished these floors myself." That's all it took. I undressed in front of him and he carried me to his bed. I caught the clock, 12:15. Happy New Year.
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