I'm bi and polyamrous so I will be dating at least three partners in the future I only date poly /non monogamous guys
I'm a writer , cartoonist, I have a bachlors in fine arts and I'm getting a second degree right now in Media studies
I'm a very creative and ambitious person I want to date a fellow artist/creative who I can brainstorm and collab with
I throw parties in bushwick and live a very busy lifestyle I want to date someone who also likes to party but also chill and has the desire to settle down and had outgrown their whole FWB casual phase and actually wants to get married and be in a real committed relationship no emotionally unavailable anxious attachment bs
I'm looking to settle down and looking for a boyfriend someone emotionaly available, who actually lives in NYC and doesn't have any hang ups about dating trans guys
A guy who is also chill with dating autistic people because I'm autistic and also disabled in other ways
Ideally a guy without kids who's not asexual and has ...any kind of sexual interest in me Id say I have a pretty average sex drive for a young guy in his 20s
A guy who's creative,
I really don't have very high standards he doesn't have to be perfect or as perfect as most gay guys expect their boyfriends to be
He can be mentally ill as long as he's in therapy on meds and takes responsibility when he makes mistakes
He doesn't have to have a job, he doesn't have to be the most woke
He can have different interests in me as long as we have SOME things in common
As long as he is supportive has enough free time to dedicate to a serious relationship and is like fun and a good person that's all I ask for
It's really hard to find a good guy in nyc for some reason
I'm looking for someone who lives in NYC
If ur a cool awesome NYC guy and u think I sound like ur type message me lets go out on a date and see if sparks fly
Hey, I'm new here. Was just wondering if there's any females out here looking for something casual???? 😏 if so let me know so we can have a wonderful time. I'm 26 btw and Dominican too 😎
This week’s Thirsty Thursday contains a lot of first for a girl that’s been steadily dating for nearly eight months.
This picks up the following weekend after my first date with J1.
—-
It’s a tiring weekend for me. Early Saturday and I’ve already had my third cup of coffee. Work is in two hours and I’m slowly getting dressed.
My phone pings while I’m pulling up my leggings. It’s J1 giving me the address of tomorrow’s acoustic show. He’s been texting me regularly since Thursday.
Our date was fun. Meeting another native was a truly an new age experience.
My friend Gabby has an intense desire to only ever date other natives. “Transplant don’t get our jokes. Our humour is different. More refined. More subtle.”
I gotta admit. She’s right. I had been so entranced enough with the luxury of accents, I’ve been ignoring the native call
My phone chimes again, and it’s J1 asking if I’d like to grab dinner before the show.
I’m jumping and squealing like an idiot when it suddenly dawns on me— I fucking hate eating dinner.
Organised meals are something I struggle with, my stomach is notoriously fickle. It’s hard to know when I’ll be hungry so preplanned seated meals are an activity I tend dodge.
But FUCK! I’m over the moon that he asked! I can’t say no without sounding like a lunatic. And the thought of spending more time together is wonderful.
We decide upon Korean BBQ at 6:30, and my anxiety increases— I’m imagining the pounds of meat that’ll be staring me down in less than twenty four hours.
“Sure! Sounds great!” I’m lying..but it’s coming from a sweet spot.
For the next twenty four hours, trying to will myself into extreme hunger. I ingest only gin and coffee.
Sunday
Twenty minutes from the restaurant I’m sweating. How can I still not be hungry.
It’s like my stomach is being defiant out of spite.
Maybe I can say I have a surgery in the morning? Dental work? I’m allergic to Koreans? No-that’s just racist. Also, fuck I love Korean food.
“This is Barclays Center. Transfer is available to...”
Fuck me. I’m ten minutes from the restaurant when it finally happens. A pang of hunger hits me with sweet sweet relief. Thank you belly gods!
J1 is standing in front of the restaurant, checking his watch. Neither of us texted this morning to confirm— oddly enough I love that it wasn’t necessary.
He looks relieved when I walk up. We exchange quick pecks on the cheek.
I’ve learned a lot through this project— but how to greet a romantic prospect will always be an unsolved mystery.
The restaurant is packed. When we find out there is a thirty minute wait, I quickly opt for barside seats.
The bar is more my aesthetic anyway. The lights are dimmer, there’s jazz playing and everything has a lush red hue. We end up getting a booth that’s way too big for just the two of us.
“So...” He’s in a plaid shirt, and dark jeans. Without his beanie, his hair is longer and a lot blonder than I remember. He has pale blue eyes that always seem to be smiling. And a husky beard that’s more invisible than blonde.
Our first few bits of conversation are rough
We keep talking over each other. My stomach is closing in on itself and I’m sweating up a storm.
“Wait....Did you tell me that already... or?”
“Were you the one that..?”
Our Thursday binge drinking has mutually affect our short term memory—
Frustrated, I do two things that will always reign in my inner self.
Honesty and cocktails.
“Iiii-ve got to admit. I’m pretty nervous right now and I’m hardly a nervous person.
He laughs and echos my sentiment. His voice is audible marshmallow fluff.
When he offers me the cocktail menu, I know everything is going to be okay.
We split three appetisers, a suggestion from me, to hide my fickle stomach.
We get our first cocktails—
me gin based - him bourbon,
He walks them back to the table with extreme care.
When I’m ready to order my second drink, he insist I put it on his tab.
With food on the table and three drinks down, I begin to melt into my usual cool.
We rehash details of the forgotten Thursday. Peppering in new details about our current life.
The more we talk, the more we remember just how much we have in common. Summers spent out on Long Beach with overlaps of the obscure underground scene. We reach the limit when it’s reveal we both have obsessions with tiki bars.
At 9, we begin to make our way to his friend’s show.
When the bill comes, he tries to pay for it himself. It’s nearly 200 dollars. We argue about splitting until I put my foot down and sternly till him it’s not happening.
He agrees, only after adding that he’s doing it because I’m not really giving him a choice.
It makes me like him even more.
The show is across the street— and I feel stupid for stressing about the timing.
The place is huge, A three person group is crowning out a light melody that immediately steals my heart.
I’m in awe. When the set ends, the girls next to me begin smiling at me and then beaming at J1.
They have a quick conversation and he introduces me as his date. One of the girls points to another table of six people, I have an oh shit moment.
Oh he brought me to a friend FRIEND event. Holy shit.
We grab seats and I’m round tabled introduced and desperately trying to remember everyone’s name.
I’ve always considered myself a social butterfly, so this is a piece of cake. I quickly gain a rapport with A.
She has a hearty laugh and killer eyeliner. She seems like someone I would be friends with.
She invites me downstairs to grab drinks before the next set. Turns out we missed his friend’s set, who also happens to be her boyfriend.
“No stress though, J texted— he said he was having so much fun with you, he didn’t want to leave yet.”
The bar is dark so I can hide my blush but the nervous laughter comes out clear as day.
We order two pints of stout each and take them upstairs to our partners.
The next set goes on, we shift our seats to the stage. It’s a guy who does a solo guitar set with sprinkles of comedy.
J is sitting in front of me. I’m staring at his long golden hair, and wondering how I feel about it. At one point he turns around only to make sure he’s not blocking my view. He smiles at me quickly before turning back to the stage. I like that he doesn’t feel the need to “babysit” me. It’s bold of him to have a second date that includes not only dinner but meeting all his friends. This guy is either crazy or has massive balls.
After the show, J grabs a booth and his friends, A and her partner, N join us.
The similarity between J and I continue to grow as his friends and I overlap in obscure ways.
“You went to that college? Oh my god I was planning on going there!”
“You know what a theremin is? I have an autoharp!!”
“You love vaporwave too?!”
I end up having more of a conversation with his friends than him.
It’s nearing midnight and I’m giddy. A is nearing drunk and the entire lot of us have work in eight hours.
His friends say goodbye, and give me a legitimate: “It was very nice to meet you”
The bar rings for last call while we’re making out.
“I’m not ready to for this to be over....Do you want to head to another bar?”
He says it....THE BLESSED WORDS
We find a bar that’s still open, and head over, hand in hand. It takes long than expected because we keep stopping on the street like horny teenagers.
The bar is dead empty when we finally arrive. We grab pints and a couch in that’s hidden away enough that I don’t feel guilty about heavy petting in public
.
I’m sitting on top of J, his hands are grasping my ass while I’m cupping his face.
“Do you want to come back to mine?” He whispers into my ear with a nibble.
Ooof. I do. But it’s nearly 1am and I have a meeting in 7 hours and I’m 2 hours away from home.
He understands and we make plans for the following Saturday.
A tiki bar crawl that ends in sex.
He’s laughing at my pre planning but excited.
We end up staying another hour, and I’m glad my hand is not down J’s pants when the bartender comes round to tell us the back room is closing.
He calls an Uber, I decide to battle the subway.
The ride is long, but the butterflies keep me up all the way.
I send him a “Home” text and dream of blonde haired cherubs.
