THE 801 ASSUMPTION: Intimacy is None of Your Business - JANUARY 23 2013

January 23, 2013

What I’m about to talk about now is a common issue: assuming. Assumptions aren’t always wrong, but it’s still annoying to be the one someone is assuming things about.

Recently, I was walking down the street on the Upper East Side, heading to babysit, when a guy passed me and said he liked my “specks.” Since moving to New York City, I get complimented on my glasses at least once a day, so I didn’t think anything of it as he walked by. But then he stopped and turned around. Here we go…

He asked if I was new to the neighborhood and where I was from (I always take pride in saying Nashville). We talked for a few minutes, during which he casually mentioned that I had a pretty smile. Eventually, he did the obvious and suggested we go out for drinks sometime. Since I don’t drink but still go out, I told him so casually. That got a laugh, and then he asked for my phone number.

As he was taking my number, he noticed it was an 801 area code and asked if I had lived in Utah. Well of course, and I braced myself for the obvious assumptions. He said nothing about it at the time and continued chatting for a few more minutes before saying he’d call me and heading on his way.

Yes, he was attractive and seemed relatively normal—at least, normal enough to stop me on the street and get my number. He texted me later, asking if he could call that evening, which impressed me. We ended up talking that night—chatting about what we did, where we were from, and our lives in the city. He seemed genuinely interested and kept referencing how much we had in common. It was refreshing to talk to someone who seemed normal, made an effort, and acted like a gentleman. We even scheduled a dinner date a few days later.

The next day, he texted to ask how my day was going. It was nice—not overbearing—and we continued to chat throughout the afternoon. Then came the question. That one question that makes your heart drop because you suddenly realize this guy might be a first-class jerk or just socially tone-deaf.

He asked, “You aren’t one of those Mormon virgins, are you?”

Wait. Was he for real with this?

How is that even a valid question to ask someone you’ve just met? I mean, it’s one thing to talk about religion, but to ask a question that personal—especially about someone’s sexual history—is wildly inappropriate. That kind of intimacy should only be shared with someone you’ve been with long-term, not some random guy who just got your number.

I was so annoyed. I said, “Look, if you’re looking to get some, you came to the wrong place, so you can just move on.”

I figured that would be the end of it—but he actually responded with an apology. He said he was joking. I told him payback is a bitch (excuse my language, but that was the only fitting reply). He kept apologizing, and I told him to just forget it.

We did end up meeting for dinner, went for a walk through the city, and visited THE MET. I kissed him on 5th Avenue, and we walked arm in arm. He complimented me, told me how lucky he felt to have met me, and said I was mysterious. He wasn’t sure how to read me, but he liked that.

I told my friend and sister that night. They said it would be interesting to see if he would call again. I was hopeful—he seemed like he was interested for more than just a hookup. But he hasn’t called or reached out since that night.

And honestly, that’s okay.

It was nice to have a night out. It was fun. Sure, it’s annoying to always have to move on from guys who turn out to be flaky when you hoped they’d be different. One day, I think it will be different. But that day wasn’t it.

I may see him again—maybe even on that same block—and if I do, I’ll act accordingly. But I probably won’t give him any more of my time, and that’s fine too.

It’s always nice to hear sweet things from someone. But if you’ve just met a woman, maybe don’t go on and on about how lucky you feel—save that for the tenth date, not the first. He walked me home and said he wanted to continue talking because I was “so easy to talk to.” BARF. I walked inside and said, “No thanks.” He texted me later to say goodnight, which was sweet, but I wasn’t going to be heartbroken if I never heard from him again.

He hasn’t reached out since that night, and I’m not surprised—but I am glad it happened. Because now I get to blog about an idiot. Haha.

I don’t regret kissing him on 5th Avenue with all the taxis and people watching. That part was fun. I wish him well with his future street encounters.