Online dating connection for newyorkers


14-Oct-2019 06:01

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually sold a box of Red Vines before.”Flirting with her customers was a habit she’d picked up back when she worked as a barista, and it helped with tips.

He was tall, which she liked, and she could see the edge of a tattoo peeking out from beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his shirt. He was very clever, and she found that she had to work to impress him.

They went to a bar she’d never been to, an underground speakeasy type of place, with no sign announcing its presence. The bouncer hardly even looked at it; he just smirked and said, “Yeah, no,” and waved her to the side, as he gestured toward the next group of people in line. Finally, someone in line who’d been paying attention tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to her, marooned on the sidewalk. “I’m twenty.” And then, absurdly, she started to feel tears stinging her eyes, because somehow everything had been ruined and she couldn’t understand why this was all so hard. Please don’t feel bad.” She let herself be folded against him, and she was flooded with the same feeling she’d had outside the 7-Eleven—that she was a delicate, precious thing he was afraid he might break.

There was a line to get inside, and, as they waited, she grew fidgety trying to figure out how to tell him what she needed to tell him, but she couldn’t, so when the bouncer asked to see her I. Robert had gone ahead of her, not noticing what was playing out behind him. But, when Robert saw her face crumpling, a kind of magic happened. He kissed the top of her head, and she laughed and wiped her tears away.“I can’t believe I’m crying because I didn’t get into a bar,” she said.

Margot met Robert on a Wednesday night toward the end of her fall semester. She didn’t earn tips at the movie theatre, but the job was boring otherwise, and she did think that Robert was cute. “Concession-stand girl, give me your phone number,” he said, and, surprising herself, she did.

Just as she thought this, he said, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to murder you,” and she wondered if the discomfort in the car was her fault, because she was acting jumpy and nervous, like the kind of girl who thought she was going to get murdered every time she went on a date.“It’s O.

K.—you can murder me if you want,” she said, and he laughed and patted her knee.

But he was still disconcertingly quiet, and all her bubbling attempts at making conversation bounced right off him.

When Margot returned to campus, she was eager to see Robert again, but he turned out to be surprisingly hard to pin down. “I promise I will c u soon.” Margot didn’t like this; it felt as if the dynamic had shifted out of her favor, and when eventually he did ask her to go to a movie she agreed right away.

The movie he wanted to see was playing at the theatre where she worked, but she suggested that they see it at the big multiplex just outside town instead; students didn’t go there very often, because you needed to drive.

At first, she deflected this with another joke, because she really did have to study, but he said, “No, I’m serious, stop fooling around and come now,” so she put a jacket over her pajamas and met him at the 7-Eleven. He greeted her without ceremony, as though he saw her every day, and took her inside to choose some snacks.