Category Archives: on Los Angeles

dating, on Los Angeles

The Geographically Undesirables.

2 Comments

There’s a term that’s very specific to the dating world of Los Angeles: Geographically Undesirable. When I receive a eHarmony mail from a cute guy in Santa Monica, I go, “eee, cute and close!” When I get a note from a cute guy in Agoura Hills, I think, “eeh, cute, but I can’t get over there on a weeknight without sitting in 2 hours of traffic. Wait – where exactly is Agoura Hills?”

It makes a world of difference if the guy lives within a 5 mile radius of you compared to if you have to cross the 405 and can’t even get on a freeway (I’m looking at you, West Hollywood). If you’re working a 10 hour+ day (cough cough aka my life), you really don’t have time to commute for a date. You barely have time to exercise and grab a quick glass of wine out at a bar before bed.

I once had a Wednesday night date in Los Feliz that I sat in 1 hour and 20 mins of traffic to get to and was subsequently 30 minutes late for the date. He was miffed I was late and I was fuming out of hunger, frustration, and concluded no man was ever worth venturing to Los Feliz for on a weekday night. Clearly, the two of us didn’t work out.

I mean, even NASA knows better than to go to the Valley.

Image: #WhenInLA

And this illustration pretty much sums up all my feelings. Courtesy of my dad (he knows me all too well).

That being said, I know the first-hand stories of the long distance relationships where people even got on airplanes to meet up with the men they loved and it all worked out. So maybe I should try venturing east of the 405.

Ladies – sound off! Is this just a LA problem? How far are you willing to venture for a date? What’s an acceptable radius?

dating, douchebags, on Los Angeles, online dating

What The Kids Are Up To.

1 Comment

I have launched a social experiment to investigate what the kids are up to these days.

Recently, my 22 year old coworker friend talked me into trying out Tinder. Believe it or not, I do think it’s wise to take the advice of 22 year olds from time to time. They have a certain joie de vivre and lack a certain jadedness that us late 20somethings possess. And when you go out with them, you realize what a fun time they have. You don’t even regret the hangover the next day (sigh, to be 22 and hangoverless again…).

Have you heard of Tinder yet? Some call it an app for hooking up. I like to think of it as speed dating on the iPhone with all the superficiality that you’re supposed to pretend to lack on Match.com.

So far, I’ve encountered a lot of shirtless (and in some cases, headless…) men from the westside on the app. For example:

Tinder1_1

Tinder3_1

Tinder works in that it pulls your info from Facebook so everyone is “supposed” to be telling the truth. I have found this not to be the truth, as several alleged 19 year olds that I have been matched with are most definitely 35 years old.

Regardless, I have chatted with some 20something men on the app and found them to be…well…about as eloquent as they are on Match.com. Which is not saying much. One invited me over to hang with him him while he sat on his couch. I declined.

Basically, Tinder seems to be some sort of playground for all of us to play out our superficial fantasies and potentially find someone casual to hook up with. But hey, it sure is fun.

I’ll keep you posted —

A.

on Los Angeles, random

Hi Guys.

Leave a comment

Hi guys,

First of all, I miss blogging. Secondly, I miss dating. (truly, in that order!)

But sometimes work life gets in the way of the fun things and you have to put your hobbies (writing, online shopping, manhunting) to the side and put your all into sheets and sheets of Excel. And other un-fun things.

You do get to steal away those few moments and few free nights away with your friends and even occasionally catch a sunset that reminds you that it’s all kind of worth it. Kind of.

So I leave you with a fantastic Venice sunset that I actually got to witness tonight. I hope you are all out taking every single possible advantage of summer. And my plea for actual dating stories remains unanswered – so please write me!

sunset1

See you on the flip side,

A.

dating, douchebags, on Los Angeles

Mr. High Maintenance.

3 Comments

There are some girls in Los Angeles who love to be spoiled, appreciate expensive cars, and name-dropping. I am not one of those girls. Give me a night of cheap Chinese food, BYOB wine, and we can even take the bus and I’m a happy camper. (True story – one of my best dates ever was at Mao’s Kitchen in Venice and we walked there with a bottle of wine).

For those aforementioned LA girls, I found the perfect man for you: Mr. High Maintenance.

I met Mr. High Maintenance at The Wilshire Bar and Restaurant, a place I frequent as little as possible because I hate the female and male douchebags it attracts every Friday and Saturday night and at age 28, I refuse to pay cover. He was nice enough, bought me a vodka-soda, worked in something vague called “private equity/real estate”, and asked for my number. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I agreed to a date with him.

To his credit, Mr. High Maintenance was very good at making plans, which is a skill that a lot of LA men lack. He wanted to pick me up and drive me to 41Ocean (a chi-chi, members-only club in Santa Monica that you pay $2000/year for the privilege of sitting at a bar and drinking $15 drinks which you still pay $15 each for), but I don’t trust any man with my address on a first date, so we met at a bar in Brentwood first. I wound up having more fun than anticipated but was still unsure how much I liked him given that he said such sentences as “I don’t get hangovers because I drink an entire bottle of Pellegrino with my multivitamins before I go to sleep after drinking” and “I don’t drink beer at the pool; I prefer Sauvignon Blanc”.

For our 2nd date, Mr. High Maintenance wanted to “surprise me” which I thought was creepy but my friends said was actually romantic. But hey, at least he’s good at making plans. He picked me up in his 2-door BMW, which he said he was tired of after 3 years and wanted a new one. I in turn launched into the story of my 1997 Honda Accord that I drove despite it leaking when it rained but I jimmied a paper towel/duct tape solution and it never rains in LA anyways.

We went to Tavern for late drinks and appetizers but had to order fish appetizers that adhered to his diet. He avoided carbs all week but allowed himself one splurge day per week; apparently this Monday was not splurge day. Dating Mr. Vegetarian had been annoying enough but at least that guy appreciated a good piece of margherita pizza. The night went fine enough but after he tried to talk me into going to his place for a drink and “the view”, I decided I had had enough. I bid farewell to Mr. High Maintenance and tried to ignore all his subsequent text messages. However he simply didn’t get the message (and he was also just aggressive by nature),  so I had to finally send off a bitchy text saying I didn’t want to see him anymore.

I’m not at all concerned about Mr. High Maintenance because I have every belief that he is going to meet Miss High Maintenance one day soon and they’ll be quite content sipping Sauvignon Blanc and Pellegrino together poolside in no time.