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The New York Post Date! — By Mack

My dating profile got a message one day.  But rather than the usual “BigMackAttack84? That’s a silly name” or “How can you hate the Princess Bride?” (I put that just in to grab attention,) it was a message from someone at the New York Post. Turns out they have some Dating Game/Blind Date column they run on the weekends. The gist? A girl picks one of three guys and the New York Post pays for an awkward blind first date.  Now Jack often decries the evils of News Corp and their tyrannical Aussie dictator, The Murdoch. But c’mon, the guy’s going to pay for a date, not asking me to buy blood diamonds.

I replied to the message and filled out a questionnaire and before I knew it I was off to a photo session at the News Corp building. The crusty hallways of the New York Post were not what the glamorous exterior of glass security gates and a series of check points lead me to expect. It looks closer to a crappy public school, but oh well. Callie, the girl who sent me the message, met me and lead me through the inner bowls of pure evil. I signed my rights away on some legalese contract (probably shouldn’t be writing this blog, but who cares? I’m a fictional character!) And before I knew it I was in a photo shoot.

About a week later Callie contacted me, informing me that I had been chosen. Whoo! Free datesville, population me…and some…stranger. I’d meet my future love at Brooklyn Bowl.  I arrived at the venue only to have the bouncer ask me for a cover for the show. Apparently Less Than Jake was playing. If I was still fourteen I’d have freaked out. I told him I wasn’t there for the concert. He stopped me.

“Look buddy, this is a convert venue. If you’re not going to the show you probably shouldn’t bother.”
“I’m here for this New York Post thing.”

Immediately a girl from the back of the line jumped forward.
“Did you say you were here for the New York Post date?”

With one glance of her I knew…(to be continued!)

–Big Mack Attack!

 

Ben’s note.

By the way, the real preview article (they do one before the date and one after the date) is here http://www.nypost.com/p/entertainment/dating/broadway_babe_hopes_to_cast_new_zxH8ffaxX15fvUnPJKQIyM.
Ironically, this article came out after I had been on the date. So that poll (which I kicked ass in) was completely meaningless and had no bearing on whether I was chosen or not.

 
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Posted by on May 2, 2012 in By Mack, Dating

 

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The Sports Girl – By Mack

 

Hey all. As I promised, here is the 2nd installment of “Girls Mack was seeing for brief moments.”

Much like many of these disasters, the Sports Girl started from the breeding ground of all chaos, OkCupid.  Her  Mario hatted profile picture caught my eye. Her intermittent message responses made me think we’d never actually meet. And even though she would stop converstaions randomly, her responses to my  identical bahavoir to the tune of “I guess you’re bored of me now,” should have clued me in on self esteem issues.

The first date:
Unfortunately, the Mario hat in no way correlated to an appreciation of video games. In fact, she was more interested in the very opposite, sports. She insisted on meeting at a sports bar because she didn’t want to miss a basketball game over our date.

Not a deal breaker, and to be honest, she was actually pretty alluring. Nice eyes, straight red hair that framed her face like a girl out of a shampoo commercial. Curled up in her bar chair, she was kinda cute.  I decided to push the bounds of touch early on. She instantly drew attention to it with a “your hand is on my knee.” To which I responded with “now look at that.”

By the end of the date, we were making out during commercial breaks in the game. Which is good  because we didn’t have terribly much to talk about it. I hate sports. I tried to move  it back to her place as I was getting tired of making out in the bar.  I really didn’t want to have sex with her that night. At best I’d have liked to make out with her on her couch as she watched the game. But she strongly resisted that idea.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see her again. I could tell she wanted to be “courted” properly and I just didn’t see the attraction strong enough to invest in anything beyond anything casual. She delighted in the way I would brush the hair out of her face which made her look beautiful, but there was something that struck me as needy I couldn’t put my finger on.  If I saw her more, I was going to end up in deep.

The Second Date:
The neediness was much more apparent.  I wanted to do something relaxed and she wanted to go out for a full on dinner  and movie. Over the course of dinner we start to be honest with each other. I revealed some private details of my life and she revealed she was a virgin, a fact she seemed to be very ashamed of.  On the whole that didn’t bother me one way or another. But if we were to get involved passed this date it would require that deeper investment.

We ended up seeing a movie during which she didn’t just cuddle up against me, she was literally laying her head on my lap. She seems so safe and happy.  This made me feel very sad and sorry for her. The attraction I had felt in the bar was disintegrating.  A big part of me wanted to give her another date after this. If we had something in common, I’d could keep it going. If I didn’t feel like one more date and I’d be on the road to marriage, I’d could keep it going. But I knew that I didn’t want it to go anywhere and anything in its place would be disingenuous.

We walked from the theater. It was time to end it.
“This is my train.”
“You’re not going to walk me home?”
No, I’m sorry.” But before I could get out the sentence why, she interrupted.
“It’s okay. I won’t read into that.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling it.”
I expected it to sink in for a moment, but instead she immediately snapped back.
“Okay. And that’s what happens when I tell guys I’m a virgin.”
“No it’s not that–“
But she was gone.

–Big Mack Attack

 

 
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Posted by on April 12, 2012 in By Mack, Dating

 

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And We’re Back — By Jill

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It’s been a while since you’ve seen little me. I know, I’ve been pretty distracted. I fell for someone and kinda let it get out of hand. It’s funny when you set up “rules” for who you will and won’t date only not only find yourself going against those, but falling in spite of them.

I’ll start out by saying I’ve often thought of myself as a broken person. Sex has never been particularly fulfilling for me. Sure it’s fun and I enjoy the physical contact, but when it comes to getting off it’s never clicked for me. Now I know lots of girls say they have a similar problem, but for me, whatever feeling, whatever building momentum you have that leads to orgasm has been completely absent in the bedroom. I can get myself off so it’s not completely absent. But with a guy in the room, it’s not.

But then I met Martin. And everything changed. Thing about him is that when I’m with him I feel like we’re two refugees. Like we share a secret that no one else in the world could even begin to understand. With him, he not only understands it he shares and delights and carries it. And that something I never expected to actually find in this life.

Now there are problems. Unavoidable, illogical, and possibly insurmountable problems. We’re in very different places in our lives. He might move. I’m really busy. Our families would hate each other. He can be emotionally distant.

So when you look at it, you’d think, “yea, this probably isn’t going to work, why bother?” I’m pretty sure that’s the way he feels. But that tears at my heart unlike anything else ever. “So what?” I want to scream. “Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?” I don’t understand how despite the obstacles, a person wouldn’t be willing to take the chance when you connect on such a level.

Maybe it’s just more special to me than it is to him. Or maybe he’s just so focused on himself that he can “turn off” the emotion. I hate him so much for that. That if we broke up, I would be a wreck, and he’d be able to walk around, a robot, living his life.

The break hasn’t happened officially. But a distance has started, a pulling away. For the past 3 weeks we’ve been in almost constant communication and now it’s sparse at best. He’s away on a business trip right now, so it make’s sense that he’d be busy. But he’s been away before and the communication had found its way though then. I’m bracing for the worst when he returns.

Once again I feel played with by God, or the cosmos, or whatever you want to call it.

–Jill

 
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Posted by on March 24, 2012 in By Jill, Dating

 

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The Wheel of Romance — By Mack

When it rains it pours, what’s old is new again,  two steps forward one step back, back to square one, there’s plenty of fish in the sea, there’s someone out there for you, I wasn’t looking for love, you can’t hurry love, and my personal favorite; I thought love was only just for fairy tales. These are all lovely cliches we’ve heard from friends or in songs time and again. Some of it true, some of it designed to keep us going. I may not know much about love or the inner monologue of the opposite sex, but the one thing I don’t know is that it all happens in cycles.

And after an extended time on the top of the wheel, 12 o’clock has become 6.  It wasn’t more than two weeks ago that I was messaging/texting/OkCupiding/dating 4 girls. Now 4 is a bit much for me. I’m not looking to be juggling 4 different women, but occurrences happen and you have to take opportunity when it presents itself. So over the next few posts I’ll go into detail about the rise and fall of the wheel.

The culperates are as follows.

  • The Addict
  • The New York Post
  • Sports Girl
  • Quantum_Entropy
But I’ll give you one story today.
***THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT MATERIAL***
                       Consider yourself warned
***THIS STORY CONTAINS EXPLICIT MATERIAL***

I met the Addict on OkCupid.  She seemed cool enough. Liked South Park, enjoys a good whiskey from time to time and is studying Psychology.  A girl with a drive for something is important. But we made plans to meet up and she cancelled a few times. Excuses like, I got home from work and took a nap, slept longer than I meant to, raised a bit of a red flag. My guard was up, but no reason not to meet her.

Eventually we built up enough comfort via text, and I called her a few times, and we set a date. There’s a cool wine bar on the east side that a good classy/fun first date. La Cava is the place. At first glance, her body type was a little bigger than what I’m used to (not fat but definitely pear-shaped.) But she had a pretty face and talking to her was easy and interesting. There was definitely something non-verbal going on.

As we got to chat more (around drink number 3) we started to get a little more personal. We both revealed we were into some fetish/kinky stuff. Her interests definitely complimented mine.  Then she revealed she had some “bootie calls” relationships going on. I’m cool with that. If guys can do it, why can’t women. But at this point I’m thinking this is a girl I’d like as more than just a “bootie call.” By then we were making out in the bar (being THAT couple) and decided it was time to head out.

We stumbled back to her place (on 50 something and York) and I’m wondering how she has a place there. Trust fund maybe? We’re in her bedroom and she gets a phone call. Suddenly she’s like, “You have to go.” And I’m like, “Uh…why?”

Her, “I didn’t think you’d end up back here tonight, so I got another guy coming over and he’ll be here in like 5 minutes.”
Me,”You’re seriously doing this to me?
Her, “I know. I’m sorry, what are you doing tomorrow night?”
Me, “Wait, why did you bring me back here if there was another guy coming over?”
Her, “I don’t know, he cancelled on me, but now he’s coming over.”
Me, “So let me know, if a guy did this to you, would you EVER talk to him again?”
Her, “I know. But I do like you!”

At this point she grabs my hand and is putting it down her pants. I pull my hand away. She starts rubbing her ass against my leg. All of a sudden that “pear shape” goes from sexy to repulsive. I just want to get out of there.

Her, “I’m a sex addict. I’m sorry. Will you hang out tomorrow?”

I leave.

Okay so the story wasn’t quite as explicit as I made it out to be. I cut out some details, but you get the idea.  I wandered around the streets of New York pretty much a wreck. In retrospect, I was able to see what it for what it was, a girl who is really into sex had too good of a backup plan. But in the moment, drunk, mega blue balls, and having  just been kicked out of a bedroom, I took it personally.  I felt like the thing that garbage had rejected.  I was a mix of lividly angry and broken to my core.  When you get in that head space, all you want to do is tear yourself down. And that’s pretty much what I did the whole way home.

Next: The New York Post girl (or maybe I’ll do the Sports Girl Virgin.)

-Big Mack Attack.

 
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Posted by on February 24, 2012 in By Mack, Dating

 

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