Date Mode

The New York State Department of Labor necessitated my presence here in NYC at 9:30 a.m. So, late last night, I arrived here at the humble abode. It turned out to be a mandatory orientation to the highways and byways of unemployement insurance. I sat there among the newly On The Dole, and tried to imagine how each of them might have reacted when they got The News. There was a certain aire of fragility and hurt about each of us.

Best graffitto I've seen in years was in the men's restroom: "NYS Dept of Labor Bitches are Hos!"

Love that.

Afterwards, I met up with UnFortunate for brunch at a really lovely new coffee place that he's discovered on Perry Street and 7th Avenue called Doma. It's run by Czech immigrees. Sehr Gemuttlichkeit. (Don't speak Czech, so German is the best I can do.)

Then I went to my appointment with my therapist, then dropped in on TekServe to purchase a make-do PDA (a Palm Zire for $99), then went to enjoy a cigar on the pier before jumping on the PATH train.

At some point during my perambulations, it dawned on me: I'm in Date Mode.

Previously, walking around NYC, I would assess male polchritude the way a purveyor for a restaurant assesses beef down in the Meat Market ("Nice marbling. Would cook up nice and juicy. I'll take it"). My thinking--and I'm being pretty generous in ascribing that word to what went on in my head--was along the lines of, "Damn! Love to whip him!"

I was predatory and rapacious, locking eyes and leering.

Not no more.

Now, I'm more inclined to look at the whole package, not just the swell of the rhomboid muscle group beneath a tight t-shirt. "There's a good looking bear. Butch and bookish. Seems reasonably well put together. Unlikely that he's a lawyer or an actor. Well worn hiking boots. He looks kinda outdoors-y. Wonder if he has a dog. Okay! Back straight! Chest out! Flex the deltoids! Hips slightly forward! Warm smile! Dang... walked right by me. Must have a boyfriend."

With Hot Fellas fewer and farther between out in the wilds of Pennsylvania, a Steady-Eddie would be a good way to go. And there's the whole Want Somebody in My Corner phenomenon. And, I think Dad would have less of a problem with me not coming home nights if he had met the guy. And introducing Dad to every random peg boy that I meet at the Raven would be taxing.

So to the Yentas out there, if you know anybody within 2 hours drive of Carversville, Pennsylvania--facial hair, heavier, cigar smoking, intelligent, and kinky (well, show me somebody who's kinky and not intelligent...)--don't hesitate to fix me up.

Cuz I'm in Date Mode.

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