Men Who Wear Suits
a fable about the modern day ‘Prince Charming’
In New York City there’s a time of day when neither the Sun nor Moon are out. The city buzzes of nine-to-fivers heading home while slaves of the night shift make their way to work.
Women in pencil skirts with their hair tied tighter than their stiletto straps stomp the pavements all the way home. While other women trade in their stilettos for flats and slippers — but still stomp just the same. Men in suits flaunt their gold watches, hailing cabs, headed to after work happy hours. They get their buzz and then head home to their wives, their dog and for some; their mothers. Night workers; typically dressed in black, ambush the streets. They swerve through crowds, shoving old ladies, stepping over the homeless, the beggars and whoever else dare slow down their cadence.
This time of day, no one is at home. All of New York City is on the street or in transit. Leaving one place, headed to another. Most days around this time, you can find me in the city cuddled up with my laptop at some hole in the wall café. You may even spot me at one of my several hundred jobs, watching the clock.
Today, I’m smack dab in the middle of Chelsea. Sitting in a dimly lit espresso bar. I’m babysitting an Iced-Americano when my phone rings. On the other end is a hysterical Leila. She’s out of breath and practically screaming. She’s demanding to know where I am because she wants to meet. I tell her I’m alone and in Chelsea. She’s just leaving work in Tribeca and will be over soon.
Now before we jump into what is about to unfold, let me say this:
I love Leila, dearly. She’s one of the few people (if not the only) in the city that I trust with my life. Though I have to admit, Leila’s knowledge and knack for relationships and love are poor.
In fact, when I met Leila, she was the base of a polyamorous Love Pyramid gone wrong — in what world do these things go right? So I can already guess what this is about.
The one thing Leila does have a knack for, is making an entrance. She flew through the revolving doors, paused and then scanned the scene. She noticed me seated near the window, and without hesitation made her way to me. She moved ease and urgency, the entire café stood still and marveled at her presence. Her hair untamed, curly and wild like fire followed her procession.
See, Leila led with her hips leaving the rest of her body to catch up.
“I am completely done with Chaz. Completely!” The first words to fall from her mouth. “Well hello to you too,” I say as I begin to pack away my things.
“I’m serious, I am done.”
Leila is what I like to call, ‘A proactive dater.’ She’s an avid believer in love and monogamy and desperately wants it for herself. So much so, she actively looks for it; dating apps, blind setups, and even the occasional Bar Prowl. Leila believes God has her match set aside for her and she's determined to find him — at any cost.
“He just keeps dragging me along with no intention of taking me seriously. I am sick of my time being wasted!”
The ‘He’ she is referring to, is Chaz. To me, Chaz was a good guy. He was the guy you ran to when you were tired of being dogged out. He was the guy who rubbed your head, played with your ears and asked you about your day. He was the good guy — Prince Charming — but this Prince Charming doesn’t carry a silver spoon in his mouth. This Prince Charming doesn’t have royalty for parents, nor does he sport suit and armour. Instead, this Prince Charming has school teachers for parents, worked hard for everything he owns and his clothing of choice varies between a Navy, Black and sometimes Khaki suit.
Now I’m beginning to feel partly responsible. Chaz is a longtime friend of mine and I was tired of hearing Leila’s same old dreary love song, so I figured, why not introduce the two?
“I just don’t understand; I gave that boy everything! Never did I once try to change anything about him. I accepted Chaz for who he was and stayed with him anyway… but I guess that isn’t enough”
It was all so much and so fast.
When Leila isn’t working during the day as a Physician Assistant, she pursues her dreams of being a singer and entrepreneur. So she naturally had a soothing voice that made her whining and never-ending love babble somewhat tolerable.
At the root, Leila is nothing more than a sweet country girl. Originally from the south, she moved to the city to make her wildest dreams come true. She was raised amongst all boys in the middle of nowhere, but even that couldn’t prepare her for the men who inhabit New York City.
New York City; a city that won’t hesitate to chew you up and spit you out. So, just imagine what the men of this place will do.
I needed clarity, details. “Breathe. Now tell me exactly what happened.”
Leila proceeded to tell me about the past few weeks with Chaz. After almost three months of stolen glances, texting, quick mid-day lunches and late night facetime calls, they finally made the decision to have sex. Leila described the session(s) as, “good.” Claimed his penis was “just right” and even praised his generous spirit. His, ‘very’ generous spirit.
She began to hear less and less from Chaz. She would call, and the calls would go straight to voicemail. His ‘Good Morning’ texts began to cease to exist. Chaz, who never canceled plans before, began to ask for rainchecks and would even stand her up altogether.
She ran into him at a neighborhood bar & grill — a restaurant she introduced him to. He made quick small talk and then jetted, using the excuse of ‘work.’
Early on in their relationship, both Leila and Chaz expressed how they both wanted long-term relationships and someone they could call their “own.” Leila confessed her desperation for companionship and Chaz, his need for stability.
“Literally, I’m everything he ever claimed to have wanted. I was just getting used to always having someone around.” Leila began to sink into her seat. I hate seeing her like this, but unfortunately, it comes along with the territory of dating.
“I am sick of these boys wasting my time. They claim to want a chick that’s ‘down’ for them. Yet, when that person presents themselves, what do these knuckleheads do? Run. They run!”
Just as she said it, it hit me. Leila was right, she was everything Chaz wanted. In fact, she was the whole package. Chaz is just a few years older than me, still in his 20s and has a fantastic job in broadcasting. A job, that was offered to him fresh out of college. He is a career driven, no-nonsense kind of guy. He is Prince Charming, but just in a suit. Leila presented herself to Prince Charming, and Prince Charming got back on his horse (called a cab) and ran.
Why? Well, because believe it or not, Prince Charming got scared.
Chaz and many men like him focus solely on work, well, because that’s what makes sense. When working or pursuing careers, there’s a clear objective. Work is concrete; set a goal, achieve that goal, set a new goal, repeat. Love is not concrete. There is no science behind relationships. You can pour your time, energy and focus all of your attention on love and still come out on the other side empty-handed, with nothing to show for it. This terrifies men.
Guys like Chaz and other men who wear suits in this city would much rather wrap their minds around what they can understand. The complicated waters of love, relationships, and women (or men in certain instances — not judging) are just too much, especially when you’re in New York City and there’s money to be made.
I don’t know what it is about men who wear suits in the city, they can only see the tangible rewards from the pursuits of a career and not the fruits of a loving relationship.
It’s a such a tragedy because Chaz and other young male professionals like him are such naturals at wooing women and the dating game overall.
To snag you a career driven working man in the city, you have to be in the right place at the right time with a high level of tolerance and patience. Sadly, Leila has neither.
“You just have to stop dating the career driven pussy cats and get you a scammer or card cracker, they’re the loyal ones.” I watch Leila’s face, hoping for a smile. She resists, but sure enough, she gives in. “So why are you so upset? What happened?” Just like that, Leila’s smile faded and her face screwed up. She threw her bag on the table, reached in and pulled out her cellphone. She swiped through a few screens and finally slid the phone across the table.
“This is what happened.” On the screen was a text from Chaz, it read:
Leila, I can’t bare hurting you anymore. I just don’t think I’ll ever be the man you need me to be. I’d rather cut things off now before things get too deep. I love you and have so much respect for you. Don’t be mad.
“The first time he tells me he loves me is in a breakup text.”
Tears began to swell. I focused my eyes on her phone because I couldn’t bear to watch her cry.
“Before things get too deep?”
Texts like these are cop-outs. It’s not that Chaz couldn’t be the man that Leila needs — It’s just that he’s too lazy to try to be a man, period. Maybe Chaz isn’t Prince Charming, after all, maybe he’s just the court jester playing make-believe in the Prince’s clothes.
Six months and two guys later, Chaz reached out to Leila. He texted her saying how he hopes she is well and apologized for how the way things ended between them. He blamed his departure on stress from work and apologized again and again, saying she deserved none of it. He confessed that he’d been watching Leila through her social media and hoped they could get together soon. Leila read the text at least thirty times to herself and then ten more to me. She took a day to contemplate her response and ultimately settled on just saying “Thank you.”
Turns out entrances aren’t the only thing Leila was good at, she does pretty well with exits too.
