Dating in nyc - tips to know when you're new to new york dating
Last year, in the middle of the pandemic, I appeared as a guest on a now-defunct dating show. That man is me.
In mine, it was good. So good, in fact, that I recently had met a guy I liked and could see a future with. Her face soured and she touched her earpiece.
Clearly my answer was not the one she was expecting. She was the type of person who obviously excelled at her job — a job that I was making difficult.
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The reason they brought me on the show is because my standards were too high; I had crazy lists of dating requirements that they assumed came from my deep fear of commitment, as if I were sabotaging myself with a system that would exclude nearly everyone. They were right about one thing, though. I am indeed an incredible list maker. I create dating checklists and processes that are measured with tools and data.
A relationship similar to that of so many couples I know, filled with silent meals, wandering eyes and forlorn regrets of what else each of them could have been. I began my system seven years ago on Trello, the project management software I use at work. I simply had endured one too many bad first dates. The lawyer whose coming-out story was somehow less interesting than his love of tailored suits.
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The finance bro who thought it was weird that I was Jewish while blond. I experienced repeated collisions of misaligned values and discovered personality traits I wanted to avoid. To break this cycle, I decided to track it all. Make sense of the patterns and change them.
Cue the Trello board. As of today, the board has six stages and eight traits. Each person is represented by a Trello card — a kind of digital sticky note. If we never get that far, I archive his card, in which case an archived card is all he will ever be. I evaluate my potential dates based on eight traits. Five of those traits I try to learn about before the date.
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The remaining three I think about after the date. Before the first date, I try to determine the following: Does he make me laugh via text? Does he live in L. Does he like his job? Is he down to go backpacking?
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Will he get on the phone? After the first date, I ask myself: Does he like himself?
Is he curious? Is he kind?
My systematic approach may well be weeding out someone who could make me my happiest self. I would prefer to have something to work on. Tasks to do and cards to sort, as opposed to waiting around in Whole Foods for some dude and me to magically lock eyes as we reach for the same carton of oat milk.
For TV, traits need to be sexy: face, abs and girth. Traits that eventually fade and leave you with a partner you hate and a version of yourself you hate even more. Back in the studio, it was time to reshoot the scene with me embracing my too-neurotic-to-ever-find-love persona, so viewers at home could see me as a cautionary tale, an exaggeration, perhaps, of their own neuroses.
On that teal couch, with my hands shaking, I stared at the dating host as she hit me with her questions. She smiled. Let people in.
You have so much to offer. Open your hearts and minds and be yourselves. And thanks for watching. She exhaled and turned to me. And I am so happy that your dating life is going well. Good luck with that guy. She winked as she walked out, having gotten from me what she was looking for, as if she had funneled me through her own little Trello board.
As I sat there, consensually gaslit, I thought about her made-for-TV advice.
About how my system has created a method full of swift left-swipes — a system that, if continued, may lead me to a life alone as a single gay man, perhaps finding social validation as a second assistant coach on an intramural L. I think back to the guy I was happily dating then. The one I spoke about while sitting on that teal couch. With his great smile and perfect score of eight out of eight traits. Alex Kruger is a business and comedy writer who lives in Los Angeles.
Modern Love can be reached at modernlove nytimes.
Dating and courtship
Want more from Modern Love? They assumed wrong. And as of today, I hate kickball. Well then.