It was going great with the very handsome elevator salesman until he pronounced it "cabaret sauvignon" and tried to titillate me with culinary knowledge, explaining, "Wine goes good with cheese." I was willing to overlook his elementary wine lesson, but he made it pretty clear he wasn't interested in anything too long-term. He looked me up and down and said, "You're gonna love New York, you'll for sure get hit on all the time." This might discourage a lady from putting herself out there, but I thought to myself, "I'll take that as a compliment, sir, and thanks for the wine. I'm off to test your theory."
Another guy asked me to dinner but then only ordered us oysters (yes, for literal dinner, oysters only) and then drank a bottle of wine by himself and, when the bill came, said, "Well, someone's gotta pay for this." It gave me a great opportunity to congratulate myself for always bringing cash on dates so I could quickly pay for myself and perform a speedy exit.
Then there was the charming intellectual who owned his own place, played guitar in a band, and shared my love of gin and witty banter. He was sophisticated, handsome, friendly, and after we parted ways, I never heard from him again. So I celebrated the fact that high-quality eligible bachelors are to be found in Manhattan and moved on.
