My “Meet Cute” Record: 0/2
Like many 24-year old females living in New York I brace for true love every time I step outside my apartment. It’s like my autopilot setting. And like many 24-year old females living in New York, dating is this sometimes great, sometimes awful thing we do. To pile onto the mess that is finding true love or ~tru luv~ there’s this idea of the “Meet Cute.” This is the story that gets told time after time of how you and your significant other met, usually posted to a personalized wedding website. To be considered a true Meet Cute it has to be amusing, adorable, funny, entertaining, take place at a book store and/or resemble something out of a rom com. Above all, it better be fucking cute!!
In my 2.5 years living New York I’ve had a grand total of two Meet Cutes, both of which ended abruptly and awkwardly. Here they are:
November 14, 2013: We met on the opening night of a new gallery exhibit in the Meatpacking District. We were both there alone supporting the people running the show and ended up hanging out the whole time. We even got cheese fries at a nearby diner at the end of the night.
All together now, awww ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤ ❤ ❤ ❤❤ ❤ ❤
I do not remember this guy’s name. And after consulting all of my old Moleskines it looks like he didn’t even warrant a diary entry. Luckily I remember our first date with remarkable detail and I think I can pinpoint why it didn’t work out.
First, he took me to one of those underground, need a password, everyone is speaking in hushed whispers speakeasies. A very intimate place for a first date, but that’s just me. The drink I ordered cost 18 dollars. I had two.
Second, at the time John Doe was 34, me 23. I already knew there was an age difference before he told me and it didn’t bother me. That is until John Doe couldn’t go five minutes without telling me that he felt like my father. Pro tip, if you want to kiss me at the end of the night, please don’t bring my dad into the equation. Cool?
Third, John Doe let me know that he recently broke off his wedding engagement. Recent being in the past month. This was said about an hour into our date. Normal people would take this as their cue to call it a night and head home but that didn’t happen. John Doe lived in a high-rise in Chelsea — hey that can go in the pro column! — and 23-year old Kelly was kind of dumb. John Doe showed me the view from his roof, I instagrammed a pic (17 likes, ayy) and that’s when I finally called it a night, leaving a visibly disappointed John Doe alone with his skyline view.
He didn’t ask for a second date. He didn’t even text back. Needless to say, I’m not broken up about it. Again, I didn’t even journal about it, and I journal about every boy who makes eye contact with me on the train.
August 2, 2013: I left the bar early and was waiting for the train by myself. He stood next to me and we bonded over our love-hate relationship with the G train. He asked for my number and we parted ways at Bedford-Nostrand.
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤ Just like the movies!!!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Ok, I remember this guy’s name, it was Lewis! I know this because for some reason I still have his texts saved. Don’t worry, I’ll send him a link to this post.
Lewis was perfectly nice. We went to a beer garden in Brooklyn and had a perfectly nice chat. We talked about our interests, his affinity for soft jazz, our jobs, our families, among other topics. A very nice night.
And that’s about it. Again, I have no journal entry about Lewis because, speaking for myself, there was absolutely no spark. Which is weird for me because I can fall in love with anyone who shows any amount of attraction toward me. At the end of the date I hugged Lewis goodnight, headed toward my train and thought, Hmm. I won’t be that surprised or mad if I never hear from him again. I assumed he felt the same way about our date’s dud status but he texted me the next morning asking to meet up again (I know, I know, a guy asking for a second date? HOW AWFUL). Today, in this same situation, I would give Lewis a second shot, but 23-year old Kelly was not having it and quickly shut.it.down — as shown here:
My Meet Cutes didn’t have a leg to stand on, probably because I was so obsessed with the idea of actually having a Meet Cute to report back to my friends. Today when it comes to The Story, I’m all about the mantra, IDGAF. When I’m on Tinder and see in a guy’s bio, “Let’s not tell our friends where we met…” I automatically assume he has no confidence. Yes, this is a huge and probably unfair assumption but there it is! BYE!
If your next relationship begins with a Meet Cute, great! Cute! Amazing! You found someone that truly enjoys your company and wants to kiss you! If it doesn’t, great! Cute! Amazing! You still found someone that truly enjoys your company and wants to kiss you!