NYC Hinge... Here I Come
Don’t let me pretend that I’m the first person to come into the internet and take a fat diarrhea shit all over the New York City dating scene because I get it. I’m not. I’m probably #45845839495….
However, I AM one of the first people to do it in 2024… or at least when this article was written, because it is the end of January… I have a good reason to procrastinate this article though. I’m what you might call a #wordly #woman #of god #minus the ‘of god’. I be Traveling. In 2023, I was in New York for five months, Los Angeles for three, and then London for another four. In 2022, I spent five months in New York a few months in Missouri, and then five months in London. Basically, I’m way cooler than you, and no, I do not shut up about it.
And I’ve dated in all of these places. I’ve been around hehehehe — in the (mostly) VERY Celibate way. If that’s possible... But every time, without fail, when I move my location settings from “Pasadena California” to “Manhattan New York” my heart sinks. Cause I know I’m about to go down the emotional roller coaster.
And let’s be fair. I’m not saying I’m a catch. I snort really loudly in the morning because I have killer allergies. I’m only half of an animal person because I think that most animals are really messy and it kills me. I shower even more sporadically #just kidding I’m not like these yt people proud to be caught dirty in the internet — let me link you
But I AM saying that in London, LA, even SF, places I get matches. Likes. Interactions. Cute men sliding in the DM whispering sweet nothings. In Ireland and Italy, men walk up to me, cute men, and they’re trying to buy me dinner, walk me home, and learn about my heart and soul. Maybe they’re really just trying to get into my pants but at least they’re playing the game. But then I land in New York. The men don’t even step up to bat.
My experience dating in The Big Apple can be best summarized to the following stories.
1 ) One time, a guy offered to set me up with his friend at NYU. His cutteeeee friend, [ Matt, if you’re still single hit me up. I KNOW you like black girls ;) ] When I asked “Does he like black girls” he gave a long look up and down and then shrugged dismissively: “You’re pretty enough for a black girl.” I’M PRETTY ENOUGH FOR A WHAAAAT????
2 ) On my second date with a man from Bumble, we walk by the Hudson Yards, the cool fall breeze flowing, the beautiful dirty brown water glistening … while he talks about his ex reveling in how much he loves doing “aggressive BDSM” where he slaps, hits, and chokes his ex-girlfriend. I was 19 at the time, and this man was 23, trauma dumping to me about how much his ex screwed him over and how they had anger issues that they worked out during sex. NEXT!!!
3 ) One time, my little situationship from Jersey asked me out on a date. It was cute, we walked around this little park in the middle of nowhere, held hands, and then kissed. Then we went to go get food…but then his card declined. He chalked it up to an accounting error, and I offered to pay for him if he could pay me back. BUT THEN ON THE WAY BACK HIS CAR RAN OUT OF GAS. And his card was on empty empty. I hate to pay for him again. When he paid me back, he only paid for his own half of the meal. I was too tired to even say anything… but YIKESS…
These stories wouldn’t be so bad — trust me — I’ve had even more horrific stories in London if I was regularly getting liked by and matching with men I found attractive. But while the dates I described here would have been my bottom-of-the-barrel desperation dates in London, these are the crème of the crop in New York. These are the experiences I’ve had after hours of swiping and hundreds of matches. It makes me think that I need to move to a whole other country just to find my forever someone. I’ve been in New York for four years, and single for all four. I feel even lonelier when I think about how densely populated New York City is — how hard can it be to find someone I like who likes me?
This is a no — “A relationship will find you when you least expect it zone.” That may be true, but I don’t even know when I’m going to stop expecting it — so try someone else with the tired adage. Honestly, I just want to rant. I even feel better. So thank you!
Coming back to NYC this 2024, I’m giving the city another chance. This is the town that has given me some of my dearest friends, my most challenging growth, my dream career, and even my spectacular sense of style. It’s known as being the city for everyone, and I truly believe that. I’m not coming back to the apps with a sense of vengeance, even though I *want* to — where’s Kill Bill when you need her? I don’t even want to bring hope, ‘cause ain’t no way I’m getting on my knees and telling a man they’re my last hope. But I do want to come back with a sense of “Maybe.”
Maybe I’ll never find a man in NYC. But maybe I will. Maybe every date in NYC is gonna be booty flakes ass crack and fart winds. But maybe it won’t. Maybe it will be an unexpected journey, and there’ll be some positive memories to place alongside the negative ones. Maybe. Just maybe.