Soooo contrary to what one would think, it is INCREDIBLY difficult to date in NYC.  Even though there are millions of people crammed on this tiny island, meeting a possible love interest is as difficult as catching a NY bus that does NOT stop every single block for a wheelchair to be moved in and out on a hydraulic lift that takes at LEAST 20 minutes. (this happens EVERY SINGLE time I get on a bus….like it’s some cruel karmic joke)

    I mean, if you are say, a cute, spunky, theater girl surrounded by anti-vagina theater gays in her profession who also refuses to go online and date again…..what are your other options?  I mean….when someone who I don’t know approaches me on the street, I automatically think they are crazy and walk briskly away, or pelt them with my bag.  We are so conditioned to think that rapists are lurking around every corner just waiting to mug, rape, and pillage us. So our natural inclination is to flee that situation by walking/running/skipping away as fast as we can while ignoring the poor person who was only going to ask us directions to the Shubert theater.  Yes, this is probably a useful survival technique, but NOT a good dating one.  

I was on a train last week making very blatant eye contact with a cute man across the aisle just waiting for him to give me his number and tell me I am OBVIOUSLY the woman of his dreams. I naturally start making a list of my bridesmaids, and mentally trying on several wedding dresses with similar plunging necklines. So… the train stops and he gets up, walks directly towards me, puts his head next to mine (I turn my head ever so slightly and pout my lips in anticipation for the kiss that will end all other kisses) and says, “Excuse me maam, can you move your head a bit to the right so I can see the map behind you?”  MA’AM!!??  When did I graduate to Ma’am??!!!? First stop “ma’am”, second stop Adult diapers and metamucil.  So, ok, the train is out, the sidewalk approach is out, internet is out, and musical theater is certainly out (no pun intended).  Where does that leave us single girls??

I read in New York Magazine that the number 1 pick up joint in New York city Is……..wait for it………Chipotle.  Chipotle?????!  So, I am supposed to go sit at chipotle alone and wait for an attractive man to come sit next me and stuff his face with a burrito the size of a full grown pit bull?  As he is shoving copious amounts of bean cheese, sour cream, and guac in his mouth, I can only assume the conversation would be like this:

Me: Hi!!! My Name is Kimmy!  Nice to Meet you!!!

Mouth full cutie:  Shwah fgam huwads Davidh (tiny piece of sour cream glops into his lap)

Me: Um…k….good talk.

So, that seems highly unlikely too.  New York Magazine also suggests dining alone in a nice restaurant so men will approach you.  Ok First off, I probably can’t afford this restaurant.  Secondly, when I see people sitting alone at nice restaurants I just feel bad for them. Ya ya so maybe they like dining alone blah blah blah, but I can’t help it….I feel like they must not have one single person in the word to eat with, and if that is the case, they are clearly bat shit crazy homicidal maniacs who chop up little children and make them into soups.  And I never really liked soup,  sooooo….. that’s out.

So what are we left with? Bars? Christ.  So you walk into a loud bar dressed in your whore gear and battle 30 other girls in similar whore gear for the bar tender’s attention. After you elbow the blonde bitch next to you who CLEARLY got here AFTER you, and has wedged herself between your vagina and the bar, you finally get his attention by pushing her head to one side and talking before she has a chance to react.

Me (over bass so loud my body is thrashing up and down): Can I have a vodka soda?

Bartender: a WHAT?

Me: a vodka soda!!

Bartender: GIN AND TONIC???

Me: V O D K A   S O D A!!!!!! (my voice starts to get hoarse)

Bartender: THAT WILL BE $27 PLEASE!!!

Me: (cries on the inside as she forks over the money and is handed a thimble full of ice and a splash of vodka. )

So, then you and your friends take a lap around the room and see drunk men’s eyes go directly towards your breasts and stay there for the remainder of the night.  You finally stumble upon a group of young professional guys laughing and having a good time.  You start up a conversation with said men;

Me (Screaming to be heard over 50 foot subwoofers playing Kanye West): SO WHAT DO YOU DO??

Yuppie #1 (speaks to my breasts)1: OH I WORK IN BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH WALL STREET BAH BLAH SECURITIES BLAH 

Me: UM..YA! THAT SOUNDS….INTERESTING?

Yuppie(again…directed to my breasts): YES, IT IS…WE ARE WORKING ON A BLAH BLAH BLAH MERGER BLAH BLAH. I’M REALLY EXCITED ABOUT IT.  BLAH!!

Me: YA. THAT DOES SOUND REALLY UM, EXCITING.

Yuppie: WHAT DO YOU DO??

Me: MUSICAL THEATER

Yuppie (at breasts): (Blank look) OH. IS THAT LIKE A PLAY OR SOMETHING? AREN’T THERE A LOT OF GAY DUDES IN THAT?

Me: (gives the universal “save me from this douche” signal)

Yuppie#2 (subtly slips his ring finger into his pocket) Side Note: this really happened: HEY! WHAT’S YOUR NAME?

Me: HI…NICE TO MEET YOU, MY NAME IS “NEVERGONNAHAPPEN”. (I walk away)

So, the chances of meeting a guy at a bar who understands what we do for a livingare slim to none.

Sooo back to the online drawing board we go. I did Match.com once a few years back and met some…um….interesting people, to say the least. One guy and I had been shooting witty emails back and forth for weeks which, of course, was awesome because I dig funny guys.  The pictures he had up on the site were literally abercrombie modeling shots from an ad campaign a few years back. I was skeptical that this guy was a real abercrombie model (and didn’t like-a-the-penis), so I prepared for our meeting by telling myself  he would most likely not look anything like those pictures. I was just hoping he’d fall somewhere into the “Not totally deformed and hideous” category.  Well, I was wrong.  He looked BETTER than the pictures.  I was shocked. He sounded a little like Donald Duck, but I quickly looked past that into his dreamy green eyes and pretty, PRETTY face.  SO, the night went surprisingly well.  We went to a bar with a fireplace and got to know each other over many glasses of Shiraz. The witty banter was flowing with the wine and we were in Defcom Phase 3 flirtation mode. I was almost giddy…this guy was too good to be true! Model turned wall street broker from the midwest who is close with his family and FUNNY. So it’s getting late and he had to get up for work ,so he put me in a cab…..but not before he insisted on making our next date.  He PAID the cabbie and I drove home. I called my mom on the way;

Me: Mom! I just met my future husband!

Mom: Oh Great!! SO the date went well?

Me: SOO well, he’s from the midwest, loves his jo……hold on mom I think he just text me.  Aww I bet it was so say goodnight 

Me (looks at phone and reads text aloud)  ”Hey baby (aww!) I can’t wait to see you tonight and cum on your t^$#@ in the kitchen floor next to the refrigerator. And then we’ll ********** (content censored from this point)

Me: Um mom, gotta go.

I analyzed that text for a great while trying to rememer if I had gotten so drunk that I didn’t remember having a conversation about sex next to a refrigerator…or near any kitchen appliance for that matter.  Nope…..pretty sure that NEVER happened.  He was Sexting someone else!  30 seconds after our date he was sexting some other girl.  I decided to text him back and tell him he had accidentally written me instead.

me: Ummm just to let you know, you just text Kim.  I don’t know if that was on purpose or not.

He was never to be heard from again.

Moral of that story??? Move to one of those adorable polygamist compounds and have your marriage(s) arranged for you.  MUCH easier.

There is this Tranny in the grocery store that is so much hotter than me….I never know whether to plunge a stake into my left ventricle or ask her for makeup tips. Only in New York would someone be in line between a woman with a 3 legged dog and a fierce Tranny holding a Louis Vuitton. On a completely different note, here are some things I find highly annoying of late that I would like to share:

Miley Cyrus: What is obsession with this girl?? She cannot sing, dance, or act, her father is a creepy D list mullet wearing has-been, her face looks like a vagina, and she seems to have diarrhea of the mouth http://perezhilton.com/2009-02-09-miley-apologizes-again-for-racially-offensive-photo-this-time-she-means-it Call me crazy but I just don’t get it.

Elizabitch Hasselback: This is obvious and doesn’t need much explanation. It’s as if someone took a voice recorder to Fox news and played it back each morning on a deceptively adorable human electronic device. God, if you are out there please hear my wish…make her womb barren and stop the procreating!

People listening to every 399092342 ring tone on their cell phone on subway. Note to offenders….this is obnoxious and everyone on train hates you.

School kids at 3 PM on same subway: Just to clear up any confusion you may have, your friends are actually NOT hearing impaired. And they are standing 6 centimeters away from you. Save your vocal chords. You may need them in the future. For your one phone call…in jail

Republicans. nuff said

People who find pleasure from posting every callback and audition in their facebook status updates. No one cares… and chances are we make fun of you. A lot.

Line jumpers: no cuts no butts no coconuts.

People obsessed with their miniscule dogs: I am going to clue you in on a little secret…God gave them fur for a reason. No need to dress them in puffy down jackets, velour tracksuits, and ugg boots. Oh, and chances are you think your animal is MUCH cuter than anyone else does…we are simply being polite.

Mean homeless people: Here is an actual conversation I had the other day with said person. Homeless man: “Can you spare a dollar”
Me: “Sorry. I am broke.”
Homeless Man: “Fuck you. It’s only a dollar”
Me: (blinks in silence)
2 words…anger management.

“Dr.” Phil: Newsflash….You are in no condition to be doling out “tough love” advice to fat people. You are one of them. die.

Judgmental Asian manicurists: Even though we do not speak your language, we are still very much aware that you are talking smack about us… mostly from the way you gesture to us, say something in your indistinguishable language of Asian descent, then crack up with your friend. offensive.

Delivery men on bikes: I know I am relatively insignificant in this city, but I do value my life and I know my mom would probably be pretty upset if I died. SO I would appreciate it if you could brake…or at least make it look like you are attempting to brake before you run me over. Thanks.

Time Warner Cable maintenance men: I would like to introduce you to my friend, Deodorant. I think you two could have a beautiful future together.

The annoying host on the Bachelor: Please find a new way to say “the most dramatic rose ceremony EVER” It’s the 678th season and this has not changed. I will give you some helpful suggestions….”A rose ceremony just like every other one where we take ridiculously long pauses and edit to make it look remotely interesting when in reality, it isn’t.” Feel free to use

We all know how weird the NY subway can be and my experience last night did not disappoint. Here is a blog I posted last year that I still feel is quite relevant. I was 38% sure that I was being punked, just looking around expecting to see Aston jump out at any moment. So, without further adieu Kimmy’s rules for NY subway etiquette:

1.) Please, please for the love of God remember that deodorant is your friend people. Friend, not foe.
2.) If the subway is crowded and there is .08 of a centimeter in between 2 seats, do not, and I repeat do not try to sandwich yourself between the 2 poor souls sitting in them. Especially if you are chubby or haven’t mastered number 1 on this list.
3.) If you happen to be homeless and are hoping to score some money from the passengers, you may want to refrain from slurring your speech, screaming obscenities at them, and drinking from a .40 wrapped in a brown paper bag while trying to do so. Just a suggestion.
4.) I am all for chit chat to make the commute go by a little quicker, but please, lets try to use our “inside voices” a bit more so the other passengers don’t rupture an eardrum. (This is especially relevant oh, say, around 3 pm on school days).
5.) Gum smackers. Yes, you know who you are. Gum is meant to be enjoyed for it’s flavor….Chewed ( mouth closed) until flavor dissipates, whereupon it should be disposed of into a trash receptacle This is not to be confused with smacking, chomping, blowing, cracking, or slurping the gum. (This applies to food as well) In case you didn’t get the memo, we are, in fact, people….not cows. Who knew?
6.) Ipods….Yes, I love my ipod. I listen to it at a reasonable volume. You should also try this. When the person sitting next to you is covering his/her ears and pulsating to the rhythm of your techno music, this may be an indication you should click it down a notch …or 20.
7.) Altoids….lets make these our friends too. Especially during rush hour when we are all up in each other’s business.
8.) Singing…..So, again, I am a full believer using song as one’s creative outlet. This is, in fact, my profession after all. Singing brings joy to so many, I know. Unfortunately, when you are shoved into a tiny tube filled with sweaty, tired people, no one else will feel this joy. More than likely, they will probably veer more towards disgust or disdain. You are not alone. Remember…you are, in fact, in public.
***Especially relevant if you happen to be tone deaf.
9.) If it is raining and your umbrella is soaked, putting it onto the seat next to you just doesn’t make much sense….especially when I come along and sit on, it only to find my ass all wet. It is not fun to look like you peed yourself.
10.) If you have a screaming child that requires a 50 foot stroller complete with drawers, shelving units, and a small island attached to the back, please take a taxi. Or better yet, hire a babysitter.
That’s it for tonight. And please, ride safely