Dating at 29 & Denim Spandex

You know what sucks about the dating scene when you’re 29? The dating scene. Oh, and the men. The men are the worst part. I feel like I can’t do anything right. I try the internet, because all men on there are available. Available, meaning they are not married, engaged or in a serious relationship. Unless they are flat-out lying, which I suppose happens as well. Also, on the internet, it’s easier to weed past the bullshit in a shorter amount of time. Questions that may take some time to get answered while randomly meeting someone on the street, such as “Do you like women?” or “Are you employed?” are easily answered with a drop-down box and an opportunity to elaborate. Problem with dating people from the internet is that everyone thinks there’s “something wrong” with you, or you’re desperate for a relationship. A point which I’m just actually tired of arguing, so I don’t even think I’m going to get into it.

On the other hand, there’s always the option of meeting people the old-fashioned way. And meeting people the old-fashioned way when you’re 29 and live in Hoboken, is going to a bar with your single girlfriends (mostly younger, because really, who else is 29 and still single?) standing with a drink in hand, and looking around the place like it’s a freakin’ meat market. This one’s too young, that one’s too short, the other one’s muscles are too big. That one’s wearing salmon colored pants which means he must be a d-bag frat boy. I mean it’s disgusting when you think about it. Really, it’s just sick. It’s all so superficial. The frat boy d-bag in the salmon colored pants turns out to be an ex-professional snowboarder, who sells wine for a living, and the salmon pants were bought from the outlets on a whim, and being worn for the first time. He also has the charm of Casanova, bright blue eyes and a killer smile. Oh, and as an afterthought, I find out one more thing he has, halfway through date two, and that’s a girlfriend.

Which brings me back to my point. The dating scene sucks. What else sucks is that my cell phone number has now become somewhat of a free-for-all. It starts with “Can I give so-and-so your number,” and even when the answer is “No,” somehow, so-and-so finds a way to get in touch with me. I mean, the second my friend Kim found out I’m single, she gets out her Droid, pulls up a picture of some dude who is also single, and tells me I need to meet him. She hands the phone over, and there’s the guy, standing there with a mountain bike in denim colored spandex. I’m not into mountain biking, and I’m definitely not wearing spandex. But wouldn’t ya know it? I have a voicemail from denim spandex guy 2 weeks later. Not even a warning!

“KIM! You gave my number to the guy with the denim spandex?? WTF?!”

Kim: “Hahahahahahhaaa….what did he say?”

Me: “It doesn’t matter! He left a voicemail…. not even a warning? I don’t want to go out with him.”

Kim: “Just go out with him. I told him there’s no way you’ll be putting on spandex and going mountain biking with him. He wants to go out with you anyway.”

Me: “What does his face look like?”

Kim: “….. It’s a normal face.”

Me: “Wow, that sounds appealing. Does he do anything besides mountain bike?”

Kim: “No, not really. Well, he also smokes weed. And he works out a lot and eats avocados.”

Me: “Well we have zero in common besides the avocados.”

Kim: “Then tell him you both like avocados.”

I told her I’m already kinda interested in someone. I sent her a picture and she told me: “Keep looking. Unless he’s really loaded.”


Seriously?! Kim tells me we need to go to Ulysses to “get some leads,” and then to L.A. if we don’t find anyone there. L.A.? Yes, Los Angeles. Oh, and we might need to go to Charleston too, because she knows a millionaire looking to settle down.

I’m really not sure where I find these people. I always end up with weirdos as friends. Weirdos with really horrible ideas…

I was hoping for a relaxing week after a marathon of one last week, but it’s quickly filling up with things like a trip to the financial district to go to Ulysses to check out men in suits with no senses of humor, a night at a Mexican restaurant in Murray Hill with girlfriends & margaritas, and a promised evening that goes to the guy who introduced me to my new cat app which I am so dearly in love with. (in love with the cat app, not the guy).

Next week on the calendar is a trip to LA, with a planned layover in Charleston. xo

Play me off, cat app…


5 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. bornattwentyfive
    Apr 16, 2012 @ 00:45:03

    Great post! Dating at any age is tough, but they make some of the best stories!


  2. Meowlissa
    Apr 16, 2012 @ 08:53:34

    I think I am going to charleston this summer!!! Lol. We can help you find southern men witch charm and old money.


  3. Michele
    Apr 16, 2012 @ 09:37:25

    You’re not alone.


  4. jeculley2012
    Apr 16, 2012 @ 10:11:25

    courtney, i love this!! sorry to take pleasure in the post (and also your frustration), but you crack me up. hope all is well 🙂


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