Basically, Shady Parkstein, everyone’s favorite date, turned out to be Shady for real. He bailed on my show, Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, has made “other plans” for NYE and has bailed on almost every other date we’ve planned this month.

Last time we hung out was December 7th when I took him to see Dashboard Confessionals my all-time favorite band. He slept through the three openers, and wouldn’t stand closer than 3 feet of personal space during the entire set while also incessantly checking his phone and then borrowed my phone when his died because he had work drama to deal with the ENTIRE time he wasn’t being rude and sleeping. 

The nights of being wined and dined, ELK, and jokes of marriage are a thing of the past. Especially when photos surfaced of him spending Christmas Eve with his ex-girlfriend and her family (the gross chick who’s 12 years older than me that I tweeted about.) Also, found that he has an active “OkCupid” profile where he describes himself as a “selfish prick.” Funny, he never mentioned that little gem on howaboutwe…

It looks like this guy was straight up leading a double life and liked the other one better. Part of this was shock of the century and the other part explains the “confusing” stuff of prior months to be blatant lies. Ironically, on his okCupid personality richter he’s -48.5% less trusting than average. Usually people who lie a lot are less trusting because they don’t trust themselves. 

Also interesting on his okCupid was that he was only interested in “Friends, Activity Partners, and Short-Term Dating” which means when he said he wanted what I wanted… ::gasp:: it was a LIE. I’m not really mad despite the tone of this blog and I don’t even think less of him as a person. Liars and mediocre sex happen to good people every day. Now I know and knowledge is power. Lady Gaga tickets and the sexcation to the Bahamas in my name, not his, is also power.

Bottom Line: The Shady Parade has came and went… fun dates, lots of sex, but liars are never keepers.

Next Up: My office is having a NYE gala that I’m probably bringing a girl friend as a date to… also started using howaboutwe again and am taking up one of Shady’s friend’s offers to be fixed up with a “nice guy who’s not crazy.” Stay tuned! :)

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

To my loyal followers, I’m very sorry for the Houdini act… I usually leave that role to the dudes I chase after. Let’s bring it all to the present and talk about what I know you all want to hear about….

                                                  Shady

Yes, it’s still happening. It’s now been four months. We’ve integrated friend circles. He’s met my parents. He’s “joked” that he wants to marry me for various reasons. He’s initiated attempts to set up our friends and go on double dates. We’ve been able to see each other more than once a week. Sounds great until he gets all squirrly about what our title is. Obviously, I’m his girlfriend and he has no probling acting like a boyfriend… words for this great thing we have going here freak him out and get him acting all weird. 

His friends love me. My parents love him. We have fun together. Never has their been an argument or fight. We’ve clarified that the sex is exclusive. Other friends of his and of mine have called him my boyfriend. What would it take for him to jump on the cart and enjoy the hay ride? (It is fall after all.)

We have plans for a fabulous Thanksgiving Eve tomorrow night and this weekend he’s in for a huge surprise! Since, being the good untitled girl friend that I am, I hired a cleaning service to come and hose down the squalor he calls a bachelor pad. Why the gesture you ask? Because in spite of his quirks, flaws, and ambivalence, I am extremely thankful to have met Prince Shady. There was a point many posts ago where I thought I would run out of eligible dates before I found a prospect for a relationship. It’s far from perfect but it’s real and I’m afraid and ready to receive whatever it brings.

Another thing I learned from this new-age thing called “Access Consciousness” is that if you ask something of the universe and remove all judgment between you and what makes that something possible, the result is infinite possibilities. If you have an open mind check it out for sure!

As for Shady, I think he’ll come around eventually. I’m perplexed by his sentiment but not necessarily worried. It feels good to be back.

Bottom Line: Shady ordered the Fillet Mignon Rare and is now worried that it might be safer to order his meat well done but in the mean time is still chowing down on the beef.

Next Up: Maybe some royalty will stop by and dub this union with an official title before the next post!

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

So there were two other dates I’ve been putting off writing about since my “whatever-you-call-limbo-phase-of-an-almost-maybe-relationship.” Just bringing you guys up to speed as to why they did not help take my mind off of Shady.

First we had Tinker. He was a nice guy when it came to sharing dinner conversation that focused entirely on our shared professional field. Poor Tinker seemed also a little to effeminate in his “-isms” and communication style for my type. Great restaurant, he paid, never heard from again. Later that night and well into the next morning, I cried because this date was clearly not attracted to me on a “date” level. This made me miss Shady SO MUCH!

Then we were graced with the cynical presence of SameName. If you’re wondering why the pseudonym, it’s because him and Shady in life, have THE SAME NAME. Well this looks like it’s going to be 110% UNPRODUCTIVE already, I can tell. SameName was super LATE, unapologetic, snobby (not in a cute way), braggy, impatient, and rude. He also had the delusion that we would be able to walk into the Boom Boom Room at the Standard. I lied and said that if I missed the 11:30pm bus, I’d have no way to get home. I then cried, yet again, about HOW MUCH BETTER SHADY IS THAN THESE LOSERS.

After two horrible dates and too many tears, I decided to take a break from dating new people. Actions speak louder than words and right now I’m not acting like I want that relationship I talked to him about. Finally, I realized that all this time I’ve been giving emotionally unavailable guys a pretty bum rep and it was all unjustified. If you consistently find emotionally unavailable guys its because some part of you is that way, too. 

The ironic part of that ironic epiphany is that you’re emotionally unavailable because you’re afraid of being hurt but being that way brings only more hurt than being vulnerable and open. Being emotionally available, open, and upfront with your prospective partner and your feelings is probably the most vindicating solution to all of these problems. Then once you accept this truth and put it into practice you can get to thinking, “If this is so great, how can it get any better?” Don’t answer the question though, because that’s the trick to staying emotionally available: being open to limitless possibilities. The answer to happiness in a relationship is not about finding all the right answers, moves, outfits, and dates. Its about asking the right questions, only to keep asking more. That’s how you get exactly what you always wanted and more.

Bottom Line: I am basically the pot calling the kettle black.

Next Up: Two upcoming posts about Shady!

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

So I know I promised two more dates… They’re on their way. I really need to get a retraction and an explanation off my chest. Taking the advice of my Music Theatre homeboys, Rogers & Hammerstein, “Let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start.” For those of you who haven’t already figured it out, I have some anxiety and trust issues. The biggie that I’m trying to work on is the beginning of intimacy and trusting someone new. It’s a long bumpy road and I’m clearly not driving the Chitty-Chitty Bang-Bang car, so it’s a continuous effort and process to move forward at a reasonable pace without dissecting each and every traffic signal that just might happen to be very standard for a slow country road in these parts.  

In response to a previous reader comment: there was a month of courting before things moved forward physically. Being an unapologetic feminist, I find it offensive that a woman who likes sex and test driving the car before she signs the lease is deemed “easy.” Furthermore, I feel that “waiting” or withholding the goods from a hopefully serious suitor is immature game play that treats sex like an award or trophy to be had instead of an intimate exchange between two equals. Chastity is not a gift or way to measure value or “hook” a potential boyfriend. What’s to stop him from dumping you right after you have sex with him as his girlfriend, anyway? I know some people’s mothers might have told them “Why buy the milk when you can have the cow for free?” but I’m from New York City, the only suckers who own cows here are petting zoos and whether you have a coupon or get ripped off at a bodega, you have to buy milk sometime. Also, I pride myself in not being compared to livestock or flowers with petals dropped every time you have sex.  

Dropping the trademark metaphors for one second… It turns out, when Shady said he was feeling under the weather and went to bed early, he was telling the truth. He even proceeded to apologize again the next day for missing my call because he had really gone to bed early and inquire if I wanted to hang out the following night. He even accommodated my schedule and met me in Brooklyn when I got off of work for dinner. He then proceeded to make an announced and conscious effort to walk towards our destination in-step together, while he had his arm around my waist. He tells me things like, “You always look good whenever I see you… it’s as if it’s effortless for you.” Or my personal favorite in the middle of the crowded restaurant, “I want to cuddle you.” Men who are playing you don’t say that loud and proud in public and then follow up with wanting to be a part of your ten-year plan—they just don’t.

Shady made good on his cuddle-want back at his place while watching Mad Men on DVR. “Usually, I fast-forward through the commercials but I really want an excuse to make-out with you.” Then as things moved forward in the evening, he asked if I’d lean over and close the shades, only to PHYSICALLY start kissing my ass. After everything I’ve been through with meaningless dates and traumatic experiences and Mr. Dinges I was being my own worst enemy here. I was sabotaging the first chance I’ve had at a really good relationship. Body language to gestures to even giving me the low-down of his upcoming West Coast Trip, Shady was acting like things are moving forward.

My therapist hit the nail on the head, “You like to skip the beginning phases of things.” Funny thing about that is a house with no foundation eventually sinks into the dirt. I want my prospective relationship with Shady to be built on Limestone and since Rome wasn’t built in a day, each little headache does not mean the walls and framework come tumbling down. With all this worrying and over-analyzing I realized I am totally jipping myself of the “honeymoon phase” of this relationship—the part where you’re supposed to have fun and enjoy each other and be nauseatingly cute and rose-coloring each other silly.

Here it is guys, I’m taking a stand.  A stand against myself. Against getting in the way of my own happiness. I’m at the point where the options are extremely clear. Either test the water on your toe and go back to your lounge chair alone OR brave the chill and jump in with the hopes your body will adjust to the temperature change and enjoy the swim. Taking a step back and checking in with the “facts” aka the things that actually happened that I didn’t stumble upon and make assumptions about, point to him still playing the A-game and me playing the nut job.

Bottom Line: I’m still a fan of Shady if you guys are…

Next Up: Do you guys even want to hear about new dates 10 and 11? They were pretty heinous. For serious.

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

I’m very sorry to all my readers that I stopped blogging for a while. Things got confusing. Basically, this post is to play “catch up.” Shady started out like my dream come true. We went on three more dates. We finally spanked the monkey. There was a lot of confusion in between all of those events. Irregular hangout and contact patterns. I found a makeup bag and additional pink tooth brush in his bathroom. I found evidence that the reason he was acting weird on my birthday at the end of the night was because he had to leave and meet his booty call. Then I said I was looking for a relationship and he agreed he wanted the same thing and we agreed to “take it slow” and “see where things go.” To put it simply, the name “Shady” now has new meaning.

The name started because of his reply to my howaboutwe.com date proposal. I proposed we eat at a gourmet meal truck and share our spoils at a shady park. His reply, “You had me at Shady Park.” I almost deleted the message because it was so friggen corny. Then my friend went through my responses as I was about to delete my account and now I had a date with Shady.

Out of the many dates I went on, this was the only one to not end at a first date. Unfortunately, it turned out that Shady’s M.O. was the same as all the “Ghosts of Boyfriends Past.” He’d shtoop me and ignore me. My worst fears and neuroses were actualized: he is just like every other guy.

No offense to ugly girls but I seriously envy you all. You don’t have these problems. No one wants to sleep with you just so they can brag about it to all their friends. Actually, most of the ugly girls I know have had more boyfriends and notches on the bedpost than me by ten-fold, at least. I can’t wrap my head around why but 90% of the guys I’ve been with have done this to me: ignore me after we’ve done the deed. I’ve gotten good reviews so I know its not a performance issue. They all just lie that they want the same thing as me and drop me after they get the goods.

I wanted to start this project to expand my horizons and how I met guys. Thinking it was the circle of guys I was surrounding myself with that led to these repeat conclusions. So far no dice… I have a few dates to write about also that I went on to “get my mind off of Shady” but every time I went out with someone else, I just wanted Shady all the more. He seemed so much more desirable by comparison. I really had my heart set on this one.

Then tonight, a half hour after we were supposed to touch base, I’m ready to leave and looking fab, I officially was bailed on by him via text, “splitting headache.” When I tried to call, he didn’t answer. To say the least, I’m devastated. I really liked him and wanted so badly to believe him and put my neurotic anxiety to rest that I can finally believe someone.

I’m sorry this isn’t that funny, guys. I promise my next two dates will be. This whole Shady thing really took the wind out of my blogging sails for a bit. I just take being lied to so personally. Especially when you’re given the “Get out of Jail free card” by me asking, “What are you looking for?” and you bullshit and say you want a relationship, too. 

Bottom Line:  Shady’s name was quite the foreshadowing. Getting hurt sucks monkey balls. Getting bailed on sucks even more. God, it’s good to be back.

Next Up: Dates with Tinker and SameName.

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

As planned the dress said, “OMG, Look at me… because I’m fabulous.” It was a perfect cocktail dress creation that had a corset top, tutu bottom, champagne lace throughout with a black lack panel at the waist adorned with a perfect satin bow. It was loud and it was my perfect birthday dress.

Twenty five of my nearest and dearest friends, including Shady and his male friend, Party Bud, were in attendance at The Anchor in SoHo. Everyone then chipped in throughout the night for a bottle. Everyone, that is, except Shady and Party Bud. It might have been a misunderstanding because I was pretty toasted when he got there and neglected to tell him we were chipping in for it. Regardless, Shady offered to buy me a drink when he first arrived but my bottle had already been served.

Shady and Party Bud made small talk and won over two of my best friends, Haitian and H.S. Femme, giving Shady a plus two in the pro-column.  For most of the night, Shady was right by my side and undoubtedly my date. He complimented my dress, he danced when I wanted to dance, sat when I wanted to sit, graciously greeted every guest I introduced him to, and then came the end of the evening.

The posse had dwindled down to my sister, her BF, Shady, and me. I drunkenly suggested we go on to another place. My sister and her BF bowed out and Shady agreed to continue on with me. My feet hurt from the 5 inches of fabulous I was wearing on my feet so Shady carried me two blocks piggy-back to his car.  Before his car even turn the corner, Shady claimed he was tired and suggested I didn’t need any more to drink and should get in a cab. “After carrying me two blocks, you want me to get in a cab? No. You’re driving me to the ferry. I could have split a cab with my sister and her boyfriend but I wanted to spend more time with you.” Shady said he wanted to spend more time with me, too and drove me to the ferry.

I was already suspicious of Shady’s motives but this is really perplexing. He shmoozes friends like he’s running for office and then pulls a bait and switch at the end of the night…What gives? My trust issues with men lead me to believe Shady’s name is being given new meaning. Especially when I suggested on the way to the ferry we hang out on Monday and got a “We’ll see” as a response. For someone who initially wanted to have the first three dates in three days, this is quite a break from Shady’s usual M.O.

Bottom Line: I had friends calling, texting, and emailing the next day about how much fun they had at my party! Shady didn’t ruin things but he did confuse the hell out of me. My untrusting default instincts are telling me to use this as an excuse to drop him… but my mature adult logic is telling me all will be revealed in due time.

Next Up:  Date FOUR with Shady… and maybe another date thrown in there so I don’t get my hopes up or carried away.

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

Reservations were for 9 pm. I was five minutes early and he was five minutes fashionably late. I was twittering about our date and jumped out of my skin when he snuck up behind me to say hello. Mostly out of terror that he might have caught a peak at what I wrote. Thank God, he didn’t. As per the rules, the Project is still a secret to Shady. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” I assured him that it was my fault for not being more attentive. I then proceeded to walk into two door frames on the way to our table. Grace was not exactly my middle name (especially when I’m nervous) but instead of pointing that out, he complimented my beautiful dress.

We sat in the garden at Dumont Restaurant. Something about the candle light, real foliage, open air, soft jazz, and heavenly food make it such a terrific place for a third date. Amidst talking about family, private vs. public school, work, and how Shady likes to share “loaded bites” when offering a taste of his dinner, we played his trademark footsie under the table. I’ve never liked someone this much before sleeping with them. Don’t get me wrong, I definitely want him but I also really enjoy getting to know him first.

After dessert, Shady paid and walked me to my car. I then drove him to his car a block away. The evening concluded with a long lusty good-bye in my car (yet another Shady trademark.) Things were getting hot and heavy while still staying in high-school speed territory. That is, until Shady invited me back to his place. I declined citing that I had to work extremely early the next day. He pointed out that he lives closer to the next day’s job site. “Shady, I’m not saying ‘not ever’ I am saying ‘not tonight.’” Things started to continue down Hot and Heavy Boulevard when he asked if we can park down another street. “Sorry, but I have to be up really early tomorrow.”

Finally taking my hint, Shady takes his cue to leave. As he reaches for the car door, I get a rush of confidence and invite him to my birthday party.  “I’m having a birthday party Friday and congratulations you get to meet all of my best friends!” Shady smiled and said that he’ll be there. “Big Step in the Forward Direction Award” goes to The Joneshaw Project. I’ve gone three dates without hopping into the sack with this guy and instead I’m incorporating him into my social circle (without a kicking and screaming Shady.)

As much as this night ended on a good note, my inner paranoia is still baffled by the situation and unsure of his intentions. Is he pulling out all the stops in hopes of starting a relationship or is he just a player with a more expendable budget? It’s so hard not to read into every last detail when you’re starting to like someone with your feelings before your fancy parts. This is a terrifying, vulnerable span of uncharted territory to map and navigate and unfortunately, Sacajawea was not available to guide this tour.  We’re at the point where only time will tell what the other coast looks like.

Bottom Line: Gave Shady a cold shower, metaphorically speaking, and decided to give him the best friend test-run. I’m scared of getting hurt again but braving forward regardless.

Next Up:  My Birthday Bash!!!

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw 

So my good friend, Sassy, recently moved into this GORGEOUS and FABULOUS pre-war apartment with cathedral ceilings and hard wood floors in Brooklyn. To celebrate this gem of a find we of course, had a rocking party. She had a calypso band, wine, booze, food, and her sexy Cuban and Chilean roommates up on the buffet.  If you ever wanted to know what Heidi Klum went through at parties pre-Seal, be a single lady at a party with these guys. These exotic studs made flirting rise to Olympic sport caliber.

Enjoying the company of good friends at a good party equals a fantastic oasis from a week full of stress. Bonus points for throwing in some positive male attention for good measure. Then somewhere after we all shook our bon-bon’s and the calypso band retired, first word got out… the super-hot Cuban, Eric Bana look-a-like smelled like he didn’t shower and was hitting on everyone. Next up, my little Chilean cutie grabbed my hand. Only for me to feel a wedding ring on his left hand! “Where’s your wife?” Like any philandering husband would say, “Don’t worry, very far away from here!”

Last time I checked if you’re married in Chile you’re still married when you’re getting your PhD in the United States. I was disgusted to say the least. It only got worse when the rest of the Latin Invasion started dropping like dominoes. THEY WERE ALL MARRIED. Especially with my recent unapologetic confession from Mr. Dinges, it really worries me to see so many men with so little reverence for monogamy. Are all men roving sluts? Is a serious, exclusive relationship still a realistic wish to have?

It’s bad enough that I always assume men’s default is sex with no strings attached but to see this very disgusting display of disregard for marriage vows is disheartening. I want to think that exclusivity is still possible and that vulnerability is something I can work to not fear forever. I have a third date with Shady coming up and once you get up to dates three and four, it’s usually when I start looking for RUN AWAY NOW flags.

 I truly want to go into this as open as possible and not create presuppositions from other men’s actions. So far, as much as I’m afraid to admit it, I do like him. Enough to want something more than a wham-bam-thank-you- ma’am, casual sex situation. There really is a fine line between looking for signs he wants a girlfriend and over-analyzing.

Bottom Line: Monogamy is important to me. Hopefully, a few good men—outside of the movie, my dad, and Santa Clause exist to make that happen for me, too.

Next Up: Date THREE with Shady!!! And my Birthday Party!!!!! :)

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

Due to all of my anxiety, I showed up ten minutes early. Then in a slight panic of having to wait alone in a bar full of suits, the terrific idea to wander around a nearby home décor store for fifteen minutes strikes and off I go. Checking out every mirror they have on display. Pacing like I belong in a hospital waiting room. Praying to Jesus, “to please stop me from sweating profusely.” Reapplying yet another shade of lip gloss.

Strolling back in a more confident five minutes late, I see Shady sitting at a bar table already with a drink. Like a typical, self-sabotaging, awkward fish, I do not go in for the hug he seemed to be leaning towards. He then ordered me a cocktail and I was so angst ridden, I forgot to pretend to try and pay. Slow to start but swift to land we’re back to joking and connecting in no time. Another round of cocktails later and I’m even letting him into my personal space and place his hand on my knee. 

After finishing the second round, the unthinkable happens. He offers to take me to dinner. So off in a cab we go. My guilt of actually liking him has me insist on paying for the $8 dollar cab ride from Chelsea to Greenwich Village. Then…Get ready for it. This is huge. I was then whisked away to Employees’ Only; where I was wined and dined just like a scene out of SATC. It was a scene and be seen place with a doorman, guest list, and ELK. That’s right I had the ELK, which complimented my “Billionaire Cocktail” very nicely.

Aside from the ambiance, the footsie under the table, and the food that seemed like it all stepped out of a wet dream, Shady told me all about his time in art school. This is paramount; dating a creative that is not in the same field. Passionate, articulate, and clearly making an investment in more than just a wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am sort of evening. He even brought up for exchange: philosophies on kids, family, career, and priorities. Shady’s pulling out all the stops and to say I’m enjoying the ride (or the ELK) for that matter would be the understatement of the century. In case you were wondering… when farm-raised, Elk tastes like a less-gamey cross between Venison and Filet Mignon (YUM.)

After the amazing and heavenly caramel with peanut brittle dessert we were off to yet another place! This time we walked to The Room… and magically my favorite beer, Delirium Tremens, was on tap. Yes, Mr. Shady was informed of this being my favorite beer on our previous date. Smooth. I then had to go to the bathroom and took this opportunity to call my friend, Ms. M, and thank her for picking out such a winner. She then reminded me that it’s best not to hop in the sack with this catch of a guy that I’m starting to really like.

Following her advice, Shady and I make out in the bar and in front of the bodega on the corner and in the backseat of the cab where he brought me to my bus stop (because I wouldn’t let him take me home.) Even the slightly tipsy admission of, “I’m not going home with you tonight because I think I might like you more than that, if that makes sense…” was received with a warm smile and a “that makes perfect sense.” This was then followed by yet even more frisky behavior in the back of the cab but Ms. M’s advice was still completely followed. There were not goods given up in the making of this blog.

There was then the sweet, “You’re driving me crazy” as I announced my exit from the cab. “Then you should probably call me tomorrow. “ Not to my surprise, “I’ll call you tomorrow.” The next day I received a mid-work day text from “The Boss” wanting to see me again that night. Unfortunately, I had already RSVP’d to my good friend, Sassy’s house warming party (non-date #5!)

Bottom Line: Howaboutwe.com is so far my favorite dating site. Super into Shady but glad we get a breather until Tuesday because I’m afraid of things moving too fast like my last failed relationship.  Sometimes having a friend go through your online dating matches is a brilliant idea. Apparently, I really into Shady and ELK.

Next Up: Non-Date #5 and third date with Shady!!!!!

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw

Too bad Rockapella didn’t sing the theme song for this one; it would have made this date more bearable.  Where in the world is MysteRio? The Portuguese-Brazilian hottie who reinvented the rules of howaboutwe.com to “I like your proposed date… Now let me take you on a totally different date I thought up myself dot com.” Then when the European Café-style restaurant he proposed turned out to be closed until 5:30, he kindly text me that he will meet me at a Starbucks, three blocks away, ten minutes after we were supposed to meet. Why didn’t he just wait at the restaurant for me to arrive and tell me in person? That is for a greater mind to decipher.

Walking around TriBeCa with this winner of the genetic lottery, (tall, dark, handsome… did I mention he was from the same place as Giselle?) MysteRio decides it best to wander around until we find a place to eat that’s more “neighborhoodie.” Yes, he invented a cutesy word with an “-ie” ending. Please. Shoot me now. We then stumble upon the Greenwich St. Pub for some Panini, awkward small talk about day jobs, family, sports, and typical first date talk ensues.  He did have the most beautiful honey brown eyes and luscious, full lips I have ever seen on a specimen, too bad both were noticeably vacant.

Suddenly, I get a text from Shady with another one of our adorable inside jokes… this one’s about Shady hijacking the Batmobile and meeting me at 7 in Chelsea. A tickle of nerves runs down my back like someone walked over my grave when I saw that it was 5:45. I always do have an escape route but this needs to be swift. I clearly was not digging MysteRio as much as I was Shady but the guilt of actually having someone buy me food and converse during afternoon hours was preventing me from a full-on dine and dash.  

I have this bizarre, feminist-independence complex that makes me highly uncomfortable when men pay for everything. It’s very traditional, chivalrous, and cost-effective (especially since I’m broke) to let them just pay. The mind-screw, self-sabotage lies in the fact that now that they’ve paid for dinner, I “owe” them something. Like there’s this invisible tab in space and if it sways too much in the wrong direction, that means I’m using someone. My therapist reiterates to me that in dating, unlike paid escorting, people can “treat” you because they want to and if it doesn’t work out that’s okay. No one is paying me for my time or services, least of all in bar Panini.

After wandering around TriBeCa for another half-hour we parted ways and I walked him to the PATH Train… oh, yeah. EW! He lives in New Jersey; didn’t find that gem out until the date was almost over either. Then after we hugged and just before we parted ways, MysteRio tells me that, “I know a lot more about your profession that I initially lead on and I really think what you’re doing is great. I had a really nice time.” I smiled and waved awkwardly then power-walked away as fast as my little legs can carry me. This guy was strange thus far but thank God he saved that last tidbit until our departure because it was down-right creepy.

Power walking and not stopping until I reached the A train. I would then transition my makeup and hair from day to night, with intense train-make up applying skill, preparing for my second date with Shady. I quickly dismissed my date with MysteRio quicker than it happened only to realize, I was caring an exorbitant amount about my make up right now. I changed my lipstick color three times and then took an extra step to smudge on black eye liner. I stopped in every reflective surface between the train and the Black Door to make sure I wasn’t too sweaty. Holy Batman! For the first time since high school, I was nervous for this upcoming date but in a really good way.

Bottom Line: MysteRio was hot but not the whole enchilada. Thank goodness my anxiety disorder is better managed now than it was in high school. The last time I got this worked up over a guy, I gave myself hives all over my chest. Typically, not the most ideal second date look.

Next Up:  Part II of my dating double header, followed by a non-date adventure!

Your Undercover Lover,

Joneshaw