NYC & The Era Of Sexual Distancing
Hooking up in New York is easy. A veritable sex buffet of beautiful men and women of all shapes, sizes and colors peacocking up and down avenues from the Upper East Side to Crown Heights. A walk down SoHo’s famous Prince Street is sure to stoke the appetites of those actively looking, and provide an amuse bouche even to those tightly held in exclusivity. For many of us, dating is a sport. We couple up for the holidays, for wedding season, for the summer. A one night stand here, a work flirtation there. A different man or woman for every day of the week. And the recent onslaught of dating apps only enables our appetites . Tinder for sex, Bumble for relationships, Grindr for LGBTQ, HER for the ladies, Happn for the boys, Raya for celebrities, The League for professionals, and of course eharmony for seniors. Whatever your taste, there is an app to feed it. But what happens when casual late night cocktails, dinner dates and one night stands disappear? Are we ready to stop putting our base animal instincts first? To fight the need to spread our seeds, use hook ups to validate ourselves after a recent breakup, repress the trauma of a broken heart and ignore our inner demons? Well, for all my commitment-phobic-one-night-stand-fuck-boys and girls, now is the time to lean into your shadow selves and share your feelings, abstain until there is a vaccine or die trying to put another notch on your belts.
Rose, a self described “neurotic jewish dyke” living in Brooklyn and avid app user is finding it difficult to say the least. “I don’t want to date, I’m like actually afraid of it. I’ve been so completely ruined by love and I’m just done. For me, Tinder is for hookups, and it works for me. To fill a necessity and feel the comfort of an attractive woman, and then say goodbye. No getting to know you, no intimate conversations about family or exes. No falling in love. I find this new space impossible. I just met this beautiful woman the other day on Tinder, Jade, and we totally hit it off. It started with a cocktail date via FaceTime and then, a few days later she came over. We sat 6 feet apart in my backyard, drank rose and talked about gardening and cooking. But, as we got more drunk, instead of avoiding and fucking, we went deeper into our stuff. We shared how hard this is and how much we miss physical touch. Jade got emotional and started to cry a little bit. I wanted so bad just to hold her and kiss her, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t risk either of us getting sick, especially if we were not committing to one another. I mean, imagine having a one night stand and one of you gets sick and dies. I know there’s a chance it won’t but, it could. Or even worse, what if we keep distance dating and I slowly fall for her, and then we sleep together and after she never calls me again? So after an awkward 10 minutes of mostly silence and a few bad attempts at a joke on my part, she left. I texted her later that night that I wanted to kiss her and would totally hook up with her had this been a few months ago. She replied with a simple “me too”. I mean, I don’t know what to do with that. Does she like me like me, or is she just desperate because of the atmosphere? And why the fuck am I so obsessed with this? God she’s just so pretty. I don’t even want a girlfriend! Ughhh. Dating is hard, casual sex is way easier.”
It’s true enough to say that Covid-19 is the newest installment of an STD, the most obvious difference being that crabs won’t kill you or leave you bed ridden for weeks on end. And masks the new condom, albeit less effective than actual condoms. When the SIP took hold of our city we scattered like roaches and rats to our respective corners. Couples happy to hunker down together and test the depths of their relationships in the confines of an 800 square foot apartment. Singles fending for themselves unsure of the path ahead and when our next “meal” might be. And the newly ex’s, panicked into getting back together with their previous partners or grateful they moved out before it was impossible to do so.
In a recent FaceTime chat, my friend Nina divulged with a moment of uncensored shame that she has found herself back with her ex, Manuel. “I’m not even sure how it happened. I was so sick and he was the only one really there for me. Running errands and picking up groceries. He never came inside my apartment that whole time I was sick. He would leave things at my door and text me a chicken emoji or lettuce or something like that for groceries. And a Chinese takeout box for prepared food. And of course flowers for flowers. It was incredibly charming in my debilitated state. And once I was well we were sitting on my stoop sipping mezcal together like it was old times. Eventually, after several torturous weeks without touch, a bottle of Bordeaux, carefully weighing the pros and cons of having sex and the likelihood of my contagion, we decided the most grown up/responsible thing to do would be to do it with masks on, like adults. Since then we’ve fallen back into our pattern of complicated togetherness. He’s a great guy. I don’t think it will last past a vaccine, but it’s good for now, and I’ve never been less worried about him cheating on me.”
With tiny revolutions happening everywhere from Bloody Marys on a random Tuesday morning to building rent strikes to women vetoing bras and makeup. I wonder if this is our relationship revolution. Will this time go down in history as the great death of ego and “sexual liberty”? Like the free love movement of our parents generation only instead of flower power, living off the land in nudist colonies and dropping acid we’re using technology to facilitate distance dance parties and spending more time in intimate review of love loss and insecurities before we pledge our bodies. That a committed relationship should not be based on the want for lesser rent or snagging that Hamptons share for the summer, but on a shared love of self, support and honesty. The year when serial monogamists gave up on the thrill of the chase and finally gave into loving themselves and each other a little deeper and more delicately. My hope is that we discover what we wanted all along is to connect.
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