One girl goes on 7 dates with 7 guys, 7 nights in a row, comes home and writes about it. Read on.
We won’t die.
Yes, 7 Dates in 7 Days is back. Or on it’s way back. We’ve grabbed hold of our newest main dater, Elise. Elise is a hotty-bo-botty, and is set to be the most entertaining dater to date. You’ll see what I mean. More info to come in the next days and weeks. I’ll get a pic up soon.
- Steve.
@1 year agoHello from behind the black curtain! I’ve never posted on this thing before, nor did I care to, but after reading 3 rounds of this - I am compelled. I just figured that since everyone else involved has posted (Steve, Rich, Susie, the daters, Gowa’s dad, etc), it might be time to share my thoughts too. This started as a challenge. Steve said that it was hard to meet women to date in NYC, and I, being slightly drunk, said something like “screw youuu, Schteeve. I could sendjoo on a date evry night a da week.” and he probably said something like “prove it” and I never back down.
So far, this has been an interesting ride for me, as one of my goals in life is to make everyone have more friends by sharing all of mine. I’ve always walked around thinking things like, “Wow it was cool to meet that guy, I bet my friend, Meatball, would like him.” And then I schemed ways to get those 2 people together in just the right situation where they would meet in just the right context. I love people and collecting them. They seem to be ok with it though, they end up telling me weird secrets about themselves, life stories, and opening their tender underbellies to me, and this helps me tell who they might like (and I’m pretty good at getting that part right!). It’s an adventure to meet people and it’s always been easy for me. I exchange e-mail addresses with people who sit next to me on flights, I’ve talked to telemarketers about their Meth problems, and I knew the New Haven pizza delivery guy’s life story. Who knows, the pizza guy might like my friend, Lulu, so he’s worth figuring out.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that you can reach out and do it for yourself. For the most part, you won’t be rejected. You might be surprised how rarely that does happen. Heck, I was even suprised by the fact that no one was rejected during this whole thing (save, Steve once). You would be floored by the diversity of the characters we assembled, but yet almost every date had an awesome time. If this blog proves anything, it shows me how much people really do want to meet each other, how easy it is to get along, and how easy it is to like someone new. If we get too wrapped up in the work it would take to meet people and how little time we have to maintain relationships, then when will we make friends? Social interaction makes you healthy. Like milk, it does your body good - in all kinds of ways.
I think so far this has been my least successful actual pairing of people because no one really seems to have any lasting prospects. Setting people up en masse is KILLING my percentage. But, at the same time it is my most successful feat of ‘bringing people together’. Damn, it feels good to be a gangster.
Peace Out,
Steph Bloch
Hello Dear Reader,
Armand Legg (a.k.a. Ryan Martinez) submitted a comment in response to Susie’s date recount. Being that he took effort of writing for us, I think it’s only right to amplify his recap by posting to the main page, and asking that you, the Reader, not call him a whore in the comments box below. I appreciate it, Armand… err..Ryan.
Also, thanks to Arty Q. for making this date possible.
Steve
This is, in fact, Armand Legg…I have decided to write my own version of the evening as the above is not as detailed as I would have liked. I am certainly not shy, especially when it comes to my romantic affairs (and for some reason everyone I know is interested in what and who I do - literally and figuratively) so I wanted more that just a one paragraph overview followed by some social commentary of males growing up.
First a little social commentary of my own…I don’t see how all seven dates could have gone well. Yes I am sure everyone was on their best behavior for a first date, but there had to have been a personality clash somewhere. Who in the world can actually get along with seven different types of personalities? Anyway, on to my date…
(Please disregard the last paragraph because) my date went really well! I’ll put it this way, I live tweeted my date throughout the night and Susie didn’t think it was weird or crazy! In fact, she encouraged it. Anyone who doesn’t mind that is ok in my book! That being said, this may be repeating some stuff for the people following along, so for that I apologize…
I showed up to the quaint bar Black and White on the LES about 10 minutes late, it was pouring and my cab driver was awful! Fortunately (?) she was even later - the two of us are off to a great start. She claims that it is because she fell asleep on the train back to NYC for 30 minutes, however I find it hard to believe that no one would wake her up for that long. I’ll chalk that one up to wanting to show up fashionably late (which believe me I have no problem with…my bad cab driver excuse is pretty weak as well!).
I was wearing blue jeans, blue shoes (yes shoes not sneakers), a white button down that had some sort of embroidery on it, and a windbreaker type white jacket. Oh yeah, and for those who thought I would over-accessorize (Gregg), I wore my ROC belt - that’s it. She wore rain boots with polka dots on them, blue jeans, and a blouse - I think it was maroon (sorry!).
On to the first round of drinks…she orders a whiskey sour (I start to like her already!) I order a Maker’s and Coke. We sit at a table and small talk for a little while - where we work, what we do for fun, the weather - standard. I am pretty sure she just had the same exact conversation the four previous nights in a row so I change the subject to the evening’s plans and (of course) round two. I am usually very under-prepared for things like this - I search for addresses/directions, don’t make reservations, arrive late, etc; however Friday night I was over-prepared. As Susie said, I brought her socks just in case (I let her keep them at the end of the night - they were cool arguile. Who knew Duane Reade had such a quality sock section!)
I made reservations (through my good friend Lindsay - thanks!) at Bowlmor Lanes. We walked in the rain; I carried the umbrella other than when I was tweeting during which she carried it. It could have been called fairly romantic. We get to the Lanes where they ID us and the bouncer is from Susie’s town - he decides to play Jewish Geography with her even though he seems about 45 years her senior. She doesn’t know any of his friends. We get to the fourth floor and check in to our reservation, get to our lane and quickly order round three (on to beers - Blue Moon for her, Bud Light for me). After entering our names onto the little bowling computer (I couldn’t think of a clever nickname for her quickly enough so just went with Susie), we discuss ball weights - get your minds out of the gutter! Choosing the right weight is very important - you don’t want to throw out your arm bowling! She uses 8. I use 10 (during game three I decided to move up to 12). To say the least, I did not bring her bowling to try to impress her. I eeked out a little over 100 in the first game (still doubling her measly score). I rolled in the double digits in game two - yikes! And again, barely hit the triple digit mark in game three. I could be mistaken but she may have had single digits in one of the games! We return our shoes and leave Bowlmor. All in all, bowling is a great option for a date - I’d certainly recommend it to all of you readers. Just as an FYI - my second option was going to a Jazz Club - my friend Mez suggested it…no wonder he’s single.
Now comes the part of the night where I am sure most of you readers are interested in. You read through my other dribble just to see what happened at the end of the night. Did she go to the after party with him? Did the night end there? Did he go in for the good night hug? the good night kiss? the good night lay?! Well folks, the night did, in fact, end after bowling. I took the conservative route by giving a kiss on the cheek (which has probably seen a lot of action over the past week).
Saturday I shot Susie an “I had fun” text, she responded on Sunday. That doesn’t bode well for a second date (unless she was playing coy).
Now my question is this. Where do the seven bachelors and the bachelorette go from here? I would love a final post with awards:
-best date of the week goes to…
-best dressed goes to…
-best conversation goes to…
-best kisser on the cheek goes to…
-funniest goes to…
-most polite goes to…
We could even have “razzies”
-ugliest goes to…
-worst date goes to…
-least charming goes to…
-I can’t believe I had to split the bill goes to…
Do we get a 2-month update of where Susie is…maybe where the seven bachelors are? All of that would be quite interesting. Following the lives of 7 guys who all went on a date with the same girl during one fine week. Man, I think I just thought of a new movie script idea!
Oh yeah…my real name is Ryan Martinez in case there are any other single ladies who would like to go out on a date with someone who the “met” on the internet.
Read about Jim below. Susie will post date review later on.
Sort of thing you do at work: Research
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done: sake-bombing with the Rapture? No, not that impressive..
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done in front of a large crowd: rocked out with the DJ in front of 2,000 ppl under a stary-night
Most dissapointing gym class moment: Failed-starts
How you will know when you found your soulmate: is there such a thing?
My most interesting encounter with authority was: yikes!
When I have lots of free time I - read?
I go on facebook often enough to - know everybody?
A date with a girl should be - easy?
Central park is dangerous at night because - late nite joggers
Meat is because - they didn’t bother with veggies?
@2 years agoTonight’s date was Chris P. Toast, a slightly shy and charmingly curmudgeonly artist. We started out at the Brooklyn Museum. Me: Well, they’re pretty. Him: These paintings make me so angry. We did notice that all the children seemed eager to escape the museum. Our moods didn’t seem culturally oriented, so we turned to a culinary tour of the lower East side: Krif Dogs, Pommes Frites, Burp Castle (which has great beer, if you don’t mind the monk theme). It was a fun evening, and I cracked up at Chris’s roommate stories (exposed nipples!) and sly sense of humor. Honestly, though, guys, I think I’m really flagging. This is exhausting. I feel like every night the guys get an increasingly shabbier date-showing from me. I mean, okay, dating is kinda like the most infamous mantra of my sixth grade sex ed class. I don’t know about you guys, but I vividly remember middle school health classes. Coach Twitchell told us about condoms and Megan in the back row told us about hair in new places. The glitchy VHS tape told us that feeling new, weird feelings was totally normal, and that we shouldn’t pay too much attention to them. Everyone told us that we would definitely contract herpes, because when we slept with someone, we were also sleeping with everyone they’d ever slept with. When you go on a date (especially a first date, and even an I’m-Not-Sure-This-Is-A-Date-So-I-Wore-A-Bleach-Stained-Sweatshirt-Oh-Shit-You’re-Wearing-A-Cravatte date), you’re kinda going on a date with everyone you’ve ever dated and everyone he’s ever dated. We’re perpetually (and usually unconsciously) comparing the prospects we meet with the abandoned, uh, imbroglios of the past – It’s impossible to do otherwise. By “we,” I obviously mean “me,” but I’m going to pretend that this applies to everyone. Dating is one of those areas where we almost never learn from our mistakes, but where we’re nevertheless perpetually analyzing past forays. Given this, I find it especially disorienting to go on so many dates in close succession, because now the multiple guys I’m thinking about aren’t past prospects – they’re all current. It’s tiring. I’m going to sleep.
@2 years ago
Armand Legg, pictured above. His interview is immediately below (only 2 questions). Don’t forget to read about the other dudes, too.
Tonight’s date wasn’t quite a grand-slam, I guess, at least in date-y, teen-movie terms. As villainy is so much more entertaining than civility, I wish I could report that Lou Smorals assaulted a baby hobo in front of me, or confessed that he was Jim Jones’s spiritual advisor, or honked my breasts and then repeatedly sang “Nothing to write home about” in a quavering falsetto. But no, Lou Smorals is friendly and fun, witty and extremely funny – stories of Park Avenue hookers and reenactments of Japanese porn sounds are things that I will always, always laugh at. I actually really want to absorb him, Borg-like, into my circle of friends, especially as I sensed a healthy dose of friend-vibe from his corner. Tonight’s lack of success had nothing to do with Lou, really, and everything to do with life and context and back-story and whatnot. The reason Lou isn’t the best match is as follows:
Lou Smorals is the brother of a cuddly, thoroughly platonic friend of mine from school. The twin brother. WHAT THE HELL, right? TWINS ARE LIKE UNICORNS: THEY ARE SO CONFUSING. I’ve heard a few too many stories and seen a little too much of The Man Who (Almost) Bears Lou’s Face for the date to swerve too far away from the fraternal/sororal. The scenario was a little like [SPOILER ALERT] “Veronica Mars” if Duncan and Veronica actually were siblings, or SNL’s Weekend Update if Tina Fey and Jimmy Kimmel suddenly started making out. On second thought, there have probably been numerous fanfics written about both of those scenarios.
And yet! It was a really good night. I laughed a lot; I drank some perfect-ratio whiskey sours; I ate Artichoke’s Sicilian, the Jesus’s foreskin of pizza slices; and I got acquainted with the oh-so-bitchin’ Banjo Jim’s, where there is live music seven days a week, without a cover. The last song of the night was a beautiful, beautiful cover of “You’ve Really Got a Hold on Me,” performed by a woman who dresses like Ellen Degeneres and sings like Linda Ronstadt. Sometimes a “failed” date isn’t a failure.
@2 years agoSort of thing you do at work: Yeah, I just stare at my desk, but it looks like I’m working. Most impressive thing you’ve ever done: I once solved the Rubick’s cube in under thirty seconds.
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done in front of a large crowd: Completely forgot how to solve a Rubick’s cube.
most dissapointing gym class moment: I was captain of the Science Olympiad team… all gym class moments were disappointing.
most obscure fun fact about yourself: The amount of facial hair I have is inversely proportional to the amount of facial hair that my twin brother has.
How you will know when you found your soul mate: My grandma will tell me.
My most interesting encounter with authority was: It’s 2:30 AM on a Tuesday night and I’m chasing my friend “Chips” through the history building at Cornell. He’s wearing a beer helmet and a football jersey with “Drunken Asshole # 69” on the back. When I burst out the front door, I find chips on the ground… along with the police officer he accidentally tackled on his way out of the building. Next words out of my mouth? ”Caught ya, fucker!”
When I have lots of free time I… contemplate what my free time should be spent doing until it’s time for work.
I go on facebook often enough to… have a lot more friends.
A date with a girl should be a… great opportunity to learn more about owls.
Central park is dangerous at night because… standing on anything not man made is inherently dangerous.
Socks are for… Germans to wear with their Tevas.
Meat is because… MEAT!!!
I will always make time to… look down on people I pass in the street.
I would do anything for love, but I won’t do that fat chick from accounting because she’s got a snaggletooth.
I never match my socks because black is black (is basically navy blue)
Superlatives (per Ryan’s Request) Most high-fives ——————————————-Jim Nasium Best bar-choosers ————————————Lou Smorals and Master P. Nut Most Fun Date———————————————Armand Legg Worst Aftermath——————————————Armand Legg, as I messed up my back bowling and got into a tipsy fight with my door when I got home, resulting in massive bruising. Funniest——————————————————Warren Piece Best Dressed————————————————Chris P. Toast (he’s going to think I’m joking, but Chris, I thought your T-Shirt was cool; let me know when you start selling your own at Coney Island!) Most Awkward Date—————————————Lou Smorals (Seriously, I just found the twin thing insurmountable, although I’m not even sure why I was so weirded out by it. Perhaps because of those twins in “The Shining.” Except that theory bites the dust quickly, since, although the actresses are actually twins, I still don’t think they look very much alike. The one on the right has a squashy-looking head.) Statistics: Number of units alcohol consumed: 26 Number of those units which were whiskey sours: 8 Number of times I attempted to text the word “Great” to a gentleman and accidentally texted the word “Erect”: 1 Number of times I spilled something on myself: 9 Number of Nights I wore make-up: 6 (I invite the swains to guess which night that my face was naked) Combined Number of Points I Scored in Three Games of Bowling: 146 (or an average of 48.7 per game)
This will be the last update for a little while, while Susie contemplates which stud she’ll run with.
Sorry in advance for the fact that there are no spaces between lines. I can’t figure out tumblr. Steph or Steve, if you know how to fix this, have at it.
Blue and Gold, the bar where Steph had sent Jim Nasium and me, was closed. Are they always closed on Sundays? If so, that seems counterintuitive, since people need more booze on the Sabbath in order to counteract visions of fire and brimstone, or Old Testament baby-killing, or the minister and his wife having sex.
So we bought cupcakes at Butterlane, where a terrifying/excellent bald man told us that he hates people who don’t listen to the cupcake explanation. Then we repaired to Burp Castle; I was psyched that Jim had actually been there before, but relieved that he didn’t know any more about the fancy beers than I did.
This date’s conversation probably veered the furthest from small talk – we talked about politics, energy policy, educational initiatives, liberal arts curricula, etc. Because we are smart.I thought Jim was interesting and well-informed (And Belgian! That’s almost as good as being Luxembourgian!). I didn’t feel any major, non-platonic clickage, but I really enjoyed the stories of drunken monks and both of our prematurely nostalgic remembrances of election day 2008.
(One thing that I thought was interesting was our conversation on check-splitting. Steph had mentioned that Jim would probably be more comfortable with splitting the tab, and he himself intimated that he’s really suspicious of girls who expect to be paid for. Honestly, I can go either way: It’s always nice to be treated, but I don’t mind chipping in. Fair’s fair. I do, however, have girl friends who are absolutely adamant that the guy foot the bill as well as girlfriends who very aggressively insist on going 50-50, so it looks like the controversy is alive and well.)
Oh! Also: I completely understand Ryan’s skepticism that all the dates were fun, but I really did enjoy myself every night, albeit on some more than others. Part of the reason is probably that I felt that I owed each of the guys some time and consideration and attempts at being cool (always a struggle for me), since they were very gamely participating in a strange, strange set-up, and so I actually tried to take the time to get to know them. Normally on dates I would probably make a snap decision and then get the hell out of dodge as quickly as possible if I didn’t sense a tangible spark. Uh, there’s probably a lesson to be learned here.
Okay! So the plan is: a few days of quiet contemplation for me, a couple of round-up posts, and a Very Special 7d7d episode in which I shall, yes, post some superlatives. (But not “Ugliest,” Ryan! Dammit!)
@2 years agoI’m sleepy. More on the delightful Jim Nasium tomorrow. In the meantime, enjoy some scary-ass talking cats.
Sort of thing you do at work:
I think you have to have a job to do things at work, so let’s pretend I’m a Space Captain. I typically wake up and yell at my cook for burning breakfast. Then, I float into the cockpit and get updates from the pilot. If we have a dangerous mission, I’ll man the turret myself. Our laser canon is really powerful, so it throws us off course every time I pull the trigger, but man do I love pulling that trigger!
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done:
I once was a Space Captain.
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done in front of a large crowd:
I think what is most impressive is what I refrain from doing. No examples.
most dissapointing gym class moment:
I used to get hit in the head with different sports balls pretty often. I don’t know if that was a series of accidents or the other kids being mean.
Most obscure fun fact about yourself:
Who knows? I guess maybe the fact-combo that I absolutely hate being sticky, but my favorite jobs were in ice cream parlors.
How you will know when you found your soulmate:
The tags will match.
Guys, guys, guys!
Bowling? More fun than a knapsack full of monkeys and whipped cream! Here I should disclose that I’m truly terrible at bowling. Imagine Barbra Streisand trying to rap about gettin’ ho’s. I don’t think I broke 52 the whole time. It’s fine, though, since bowling lends itself well to double entendres, at which Armand Legg is quite skilled: “Do it like you mean it!” “Slower and gentler!” “Find the one with the big thumb-hole!”
Also, major ups (as the kids say. Maybe.) to Armand for being the best-prepared guy on the planet. Homeboy - and O! How my whiteness rises off the page like a poisonous fog when I type that word - not only made reservations at Bowlmore Lanes, he also brought along a brand-new pair of socks in case I was wearing heels and needed some foot-sleeves.
This legendary level of preparation brings us to another pressing issue which has come to my attention over the past 5 days: these guys have got it down.
Look. I’m picky and I’m judgemental. I’m an undercover bitch, and yet inexplicably charming. If these guys weren’t elbow-slashing sweet I would extricate myself after 40 minutes. Not even 45 minutes. 40. 2/3 of an hour. That’s not even a real fraction. But each date so far has averaged 3 and a half hours, and has been more fun than the Swiss Family Robinson. I keep getting emails from those of you who follow the blog accusing me of being too gentle or too forgiving. No. I am mean. Even under the truth-serum spell of two whiskey sours and three Blue Moons, I can report that they. Really. Are. That. Great.
The niggling question is how. How did they figure this out? How did they learn to hold doors and touch but not grope and get drinks and ask smart questions and be cool? They didn’t know how to do this in college and they sure as hell didn’t know how to do this in high school. Somewhere along the line, guys my age evolved.
@2 years ago with 1 noteSort of thing you do at work: PRODUCTION OF EVENTS AND T-SHIRT PRINTING – SO IF ANYONE READING THIS NEEDS AN EVENT OR A T-SHIRT LET ME KNOW (I CAN’T RESIST A FREE PLUG!!)
Most impressive thing you’ve ever done: GRADUATED A TOP 10 COLLEGE, STARTED MY OWN COMPANY, RAN A MARATHON, WON A POKER TOURNAMENT, FLAWLESSLY SUNG THE 13 MINUTE VERSION OF RAPPER’S DELIGHT IN KARAOKE, WROTE A SCREENPLAY AND WATCHED THE MOVIE “LOVE ACTUALLY” IN ITS ENTIRETY FOR 35 STRAIGHT DAYS…TAKE YOUR PICK!
