Dating a banker in nyc
” But those poor bastards don’t live in New York City, where the banquet is 24 hours a day and everybody wants a piece of everybody else, if just for a little amuse-bouche.
We’re free and “grown up” and independent; we can do what we want, sexually and otherwise.
The self-described “bi-coastal but not in a gay way” guy who didn’t come home one night because he’d passed out in a planter underneath the Manhattan Bridge. “He doesn’t deserve you,” they would say, my own Greek chorus.
(We continued to date for at least a month after that.) Their ages have ranged from nearly 15 years younger than me to going on 15 years older. “You’re so much better than him.” Then, inevitably: “Why are New York men such assholes? New York City, to be fair, suffers its share of problems for the female dater.
Which is part of the problem, if you’re going to call it that.
When asked what he thought about the “plight of the single lady”—and women who blame men for the state of dating in the city, a single New Yorker in his twenties admitted, “I see where they’re coming from, but, in a lot of ways, they bring it upon themselves.
And something else: that the success or failure of most relationships can, if we look at them with open eyes, probably be predicted from the very beginning based on some simple indicators.
Take a “concept” like “He’s Just Not That Into You,” which puts blame squarely on the man’s shoulders. But at what point did we lose the capacity to be as “Just Not That Into You” as the men?
It’s where the boys are.” As Tamsen Fadal, relationship expert and the female member of “America’s only husband-wife matchmaking team” told us, “New York is like a candy store to men.I think if girls were more withholding, boys would be more likely to commit, but because boys can get most of what they want without having to commit, they do.That implies that all boys want is to hook up, which I don’t think is true, but I think that is a lot of it. admitted to no one, perhaps not even myself: too available. If you’re like me (and I think a lot of us are), you might say you can’t stand drama and that all you want is a nice, stable relationship with someone who loves and treats you well, but “nice” and “stable” have hardly the appeal of words like “exciting” or “passionate” or, well, “drama.” Our status as single, independent, financially solvent New York City women in the year 2011 has us sitting on a mountain of unprecedented options. So we want all the options, bigger and better and faster and shinier, or taller or sexier or stronger or smarter, and yet somehow also different and completely our own. It’s not because we wanted to settle down with the patient and reliable plod-along schmo, and have babies and live in a three-bedroom house with a two-car garage where we peaceably grill in the summer and make casseroles in winter until we die.That’s why when a girl says, ‘Oh, sure, we can hook up and I won’t be weird about it,’ they end up yelling at you a week later.” For every loser I’ve screamed at, there have been nice, normal single guys with perfectly acceptable ZIP codes and ages and jobs and habits who never did a thing wrong but for some reason were chucked after the first or second, or maybe even third, date for being boring, predictable, too nice, too normal, not successful enough, or . We want the tippy-top of what we can get—why shouldn’t we? It’s not because we wanted our lives charted out before we lived them.My high school boyfriend was probably the best man I’ve ever dated.