Real Ginger. Questionable Taste.
A sassy 20-something redhead attempts to wean herself from serial monogamy by creeping on the single male population of NYC.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Moving to Wordpress!
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Inglorious Bald-terd
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Master Ginger's "About Me" (for future reference)
1. Soo I was reading through your profile and checking out your pictures you seem really cool - so I've got to reach out. The fact that you are also a Riverside Park fan definitely earned you some bonus points :)
How was your weekend – did you do anything fun?
Yesterday was a Coney Island/Brighton Beach adventure for me and some friends. Got Nathans of course and a ton of sun (the weather beautiful!) so I’m kind of a Jewish lobster right now :)
Headed to the parents in a bit… it's funny... I think my favorite thing to do there is open the fridge. It's stocked with maybe the greatest things - home cooked foods, meats, cheeses, sauces and beverages of all kinds. Yes, definitely a whole lot different than the fridge in my apartment! So there’s a realistic chance I'll be about 100 pounds heavier than my jdate pictures here after I leave tonight :)
And by the way I found it really cool that you just finished up at Columbia and have the rest of the summer... maybe even year to just enjoy. Very jealous :)
Anyways I'm looking forward to hearing back and learning a bit more…
Have a great day!
-Howie
2. A girl who drinks whiskey is a girl I need to date. How is adult-o-lescent life going recently?
Eric
3. Como estas
How was your not-spent-job-searching humpday?
I like that you enjoy running outdoors by the water, but on the UWS? Is that where you live? Its not a deal-breaker, I just wanna know. As for other important questions, do you like bloody marys? How about gummi bears?'
4. I like ur philosophy on job searching, even though it may reveal a slight peter pan syndrome...but ur cute soooo...maybe I can learn some more - Richie
5. You have a good sense of humor!
6. hey...ur pretty cute for a redhead :) can i take you to mcdonald's sometime? if you're lucky, ill let you super size.
-rockkstarr007
7. is it true what they say? red heads know the best spicy thai food?
8. snorting when you laugh is that hereditary?
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Fest's Response to my Warning Message
I'm not sure whether to laugh or feel a little scared now (that you are going to chloroform ME and drag me into the park, and that you last message was some form of heads-up). LOL. Rest assured, tuesday at 7pm you're meeting an aspiring prosecutor. The only thing you have to worry about is (1) me tossing you into jail for cocaine posession or eating a disgusting amount of McDonalds and/or (2) having too good of a time. ;) I'd allow you to pat me down before the date to check for contraband, but I usually save that sort of thing for after the 3rd or 4th date. LOL. You're in good hands and I'm looking forward to meeting you.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Date scheduled for Tuesday (not cousin Wednesday!) with Uncle Fester
Here are some messages between us over the past week in ascending order:
Ginge - How was Bethany Beach? Tuesday works for me. I get out of work at around 6:30. How does coffee in central park sound? Tonight I'm off to karaoke and salsa dancing with some friends. Should be fun!
Ginge - Let's meet at 7:00 at the Starbucks between 72nd and 73rd on colombus avenue. Have you ever been to the pavilllion in Strawberry fields? I've been meaning to get out there. I was thinking we could grab coffee and walk into hte park.
The one thing that alarmed me throughout all of these messages (minus his apparent vendetta against spell check) was his desire to have our first meeting in the park. Now I love Central Park, and all NYC parks for that matter, but for a first date? I have a feeling a lot of Law & Order episodes begin in very much the same manner. As a result, I sent him the following reply as a warning to him that nobody fucks with the ginge:
Hey Fest-Sure. We can meet at 7p at Starbucks. Do you live on the UWS around there? You should know that I will use this initial meeting spot as an opportunity to scan you for questionable materials, like a handkerchief and chloroform, that you could potentially use on me prior to taking me to the park. I have been to the pavilion in Strawberry Fields and it's nice, but hopefully "Strawberry Fields" isn't really code for some sort of ditch or abandoned woods in which you plan to leave my dismembered body, because that wouldn't be ku. Anyway, I am looking forward to meeting you and hope you have a great rest of your weekend! -Ginge
I know the message is a little intense, but at least I'm being honest. Plus, on some level he might find it charming or hilarious, or even think that it is very smart of me to have these kind of concerns. It's funny, though, because I don't think my biggest concern for this date is even really the possibility of being chloroformed, it's that I will have an extremely hard time focusing on anything this kid is talking about because I will be too busy trying not to shit myself as a result of the fatal combination of Starbucks Coffee and brisk NYC-style walking through the park. I can already envision myself profusely nodding my head while awkwardly hopping from foot to foot and squeezing my butt cheeks together.
Anyway, he sent me a text today since I gave him my phone number, figuring it was easier for planning than continuing to exchange messages through the site. He said: "Hey Alaska. It's Fest. You have a jdate message. Eat lots of crabs lol". I can only assume that the "Alaska" reference was for Alaskan King Crabs because I told him that I was having a crab feast in Bethany Beach for my friend's birthday (even though these crabs were technically Maryland ones), and the "lol" could have easily been substituted with a punctuation mark, but hey - it is hands-down better than an emoticon. Despite the cheesiness, I like that he was clearly trying to be clever, even if it sounded a tad caveman-esque (Thanks, J). But then again, what do you expect from a former college football player? Nonetheless, I'm impressed. He's just trying to work with what charm he's got and I can respect that.
So the date is for Tuesday. At least I know that if he starts to say stupid things and piss me off (though I have a hard time believing that anything could be worse than The Lisper), I can probably shut him up by shoving a light bulb in his mouth.*
*Addams Family reference: Uncle Fester was known to be able to illuminate a light bulb by putting it in his mouth.
Saturday, July 3, 2010
Dating Prospect #2: Bald and Probably Toothless
So after my wonderful date with The Lisper, one would think I would be disheartened. Nonsense! I have found yet another victim to either love, or tear apart, the latter being more likely. This dude’s picture sends a few warning signs which could also be positives. He is bald, or has a shaved head, despite being only 24, but sometimes if you start balding early it is better just to shave it all off. It shows that you have self confidence and maybe, just maybe, will try a little bit harder in the sack. My mom always fed me lines like that about short men, bald men, ugly men, Jewish men, or all of the above. I remember being ten and coming home from Hebrew school and talking about this kid Marc who had a crush on me:
Me: Marc Stern has a crush on me.
Mom: Aw, he is cute. His mom is nice.
Me: Ew, mom. He is short.
Mom: Short men try harder.
Me: What does that even mean?
Mom: They just…try harder. In ALL aspects of life. (note: My dad is 5’8”)
Then as I got older, it went something like this:
Mom: I think you should date Jason.
Me: I would like to attract someone taller than 5’7” and actually attractive.
Mom: Stop being such a bitch. No one will take care of you as good as a short, homely man.
Me: You mean as a provider?
Mom: Well, hopefully that too. I was referring more to their bedroom skills. What else do they have going for them? They have to compensate somewhere.
If what my mom taught me was correct, this bald, potentially toothless (his two front teeth are present, but they are shorter than the surrounding teeth, sort of like a dog, or wolf) guy who I will refer to as Uncle Fester (from the Addams Family), or Fester for short, from here on out, should be rocking my world soon.
Anyway, I digress (as usual). Let’s return to Fester’s issues. He is wearing a Cornell Football T-shirt. G went to Cornell and knew basically everyone ever because he was a “minor celebrity” on campus, or so he claimed. Fester could just be one of those guys who wear T-shirts from colleges that they didn’t actually go to, thinking that the Cornell name would make him more attractive to me, when a guy's college is actually quite irrelevant. I just hate it when I have to listen to Cornell kids preach their little “Well, uh, Cornell might be the easiest Ivy to get into, but the hardest to graduate from” mantra to their critics because they have some sort of inferiority complex.
This was Fester’s message to me. I can just imagine him greedily drooling over my picture through his missing front teeth, shivering and “heh-heh-heh-ing” a little bit through his darkly encircled eyes:
Hey. How are you? I can't really help you with the job search.....but I might be able to take care of the Jameson's Irish Whiskey. Just a thought. You have a really cute smile. I'd love to hear more about u. Ben
No shit Fest, I know you can’t help me with my job search. I have no interest in doing a Mr. Clean commercial with you. But yes, I am happy you offered the whiskey. It will take the edge off of what will inevitably be a date where I find myself continuously resisting the urge to pet you while blurting out something akin to “Do the drapes match the carpet?”
Nonetheless, I will agree to a drink with you. Especially since you referred to Jameson’s by its full name. Also because your “About Me” has a few flaws, but is not completely awful:
Cooking? Please. I know you are trying to appear sensitive, but when a guy says he wants to learn how to cook, it is most definitely an empty offer. What they are really saying is, “If you cook for me, I’ll attempt to cook for you” which really boils down to “Cook for me! I have no intentions of learning!” I know this, because G always talked about how he could cook slash enjoyed cooking. Did I ever see proof of this? Not really. Unless you count all of the times he talked about how he cooked for his ex and whined about how she never cooked for him in return. Then he would pair these complaints with photos that he had taken with his cell phone of said meals that he had cooked for her. In other words, “I was never actually planning to cook for you. It was just a nice idea I wanted to implant in your head to see if you were going to make the first move towards the kitchen. Now that you have, I’m just going to sit here on this couch while you fry me some chicken in a dreidel apron.”
Probably my biggest problem with this paragraph is the part about goofiness in “proper amounts.” I’m sure we’d be compatible on some levels, but I am goofy all the damn time. I’m sure if I show one extra shred of my personality, he’ll have a breakdown like my first ex boyfriend did (Let’s call him Patrick Bateman--albeit a much less attractive version--because he is a narcissistic prick who works in finance and probably hides dead body parts in his freezer). At our six year anniversary dinner at Dinosaur BBQ, I took a potato ball off of his plate and bit into it while it was still on my fork while making “nom nom nom” noises. He dropped his utensils and screamed “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING???” as if he had just walked in on me diddling myself with Hitler's moustache. His explanation for screaming at me in the middle of a this West Harlem BBQ joint like I had just taken a shit on the floor in the middle of Buckingham Palace had to do with his new found belief in the rules of proper dining etiquette: You NEVER bite something off of a fork. Either you put the entire thing in your mouth, or you cut it into pieces with a knife. I should have taken his advice later that night; unfortunately his dick never merited being cut into smaller pieces. Boom.
Anyway, despite his resemblance to my least favorite Addams Family character, I feel like we may get along since we have similar priorities (life ambitions, looking good, family, friends etc.). Things will go especially well for the Fest if I find out that his baldness is in keeping with my “damaged goods” theme (i.e. he has a genetic defect, or better yet, Alopecia). Except upon reexamining his photo, I noticed he has eyebrows. So I guess he’s just plain bald. Wish me luck!
Thursday, July 1, 2010
Example of a message to which I would never respond
Not sure how you can be single. Do you stutter or are you super clumsy? :) Tell you parents they have super jewish genes !
:) Okay - so maybe I am a fan. So sue me :)
I figured that since I provided what appeared to be an acceptable message from The Lisper, I should provide an example of a message I would never respond to, like this one. Let’s analyze it.
“If you are not the best looking girl on jdate…then you are tied for 1st!”
This could be construed as a compliment, if the majority of Jewish girls on JDate were actually decent looking, rather than that special breed that thinks wearing ill-fitting spandex and a cut up sweatshirt with their hair on the side of their head and huge sunglasses is acceptable to society. I think the Mike Posen Song “Cooler than Me” was written for the Jewish girls that attended the University of Maryland, or really any other large state school that houses large amounts of my people. They do wear “designer shades just to hide [their] face.” So I guess the bottom line of why this first line of the e-mail is open to criticism is that by calling me the “best looking girl on jdate” he has ultimately told me I am like the smartest kid with down syndrome. I want him to send me a picture of who I am “tied” with, just to verify whether or not this is a genuine compliment.
“Not sure how you can be single.”
Neither am I, to be honest. Let’s chalk that one up to my fetish with “damaged goods.” I’m like the Statue of Liberty. I take the poor huddled masses (read: people with low self esteem and other problems, like glasses or a peg leg) and give them entry to my golden door (this can be interpreted however you please) so they feel better about themselves. Once they realize that I am spoiling them, they begin to take the situation for granted and slack off in effort. I am actually a pretty awesome girlfriend, or so I’ve been told. It was actually G’s favorite phrase about me: “You are so AMAZING and DESERVE someone who can make you HAPPY.” The aforementioned capitalized words were used so many times over the course of our relationship that I have stricken them from my vocabulary. G, despite his Ivy League pedigree, needs a lesson on complimentary adjectives that surpass the fourth grade level. Anyway, I digress.
“Do you stutter or are you super clumsy? :)”
Stutter? No, but I have banged a guy who did (damaged goods). Super clumsy? A lot of the time. Why must people assume that since I am on JDate that I have problems (even though I pretty much assume that they do)? One in five relationships begins online today—well, according to that match.com commercial. I don’t have a problem meeting guys, but they typically aren’t the kind of guys who want to actually date me. Then again, I’m not exactly looking for a relationship right now, so when I say “date” it’s more in reference to being fed and a conversation that extends beyond “holy boobs!.” One of my bosses always told me: “You don’t date people you meet at a bar. You just don’t.” It’s something I have always taken to heart. Plus, you can’t find damaged goods at the bars, unless they are alcoholics, and those are not the endearing kind of damaged goods to which I am usually attracted to (chronic twitch > vomiting on my shoes).
“Tell you parents they have super jewish genes !”
Sure, Tony Soprano, I will tell “you parents” they have good genes. Then I’ll whip out my pistol and whack you down by the Hudson River. It’s called spell check asshole. Or even a second read, which you would have done if you really cared about impressing me. As for the “super jewish genes!”, I have a feeling this kid would be slightly upset if I told him that my mom is actually Italian. It’s like cheating. Italian mixed with anything makes you better looking than you would have been otherwise. I may have red hair, but because I am half Italian, I was able to escape the ginger blight of paleness. So it’s probably her you can thank for me not turning out like a complete troll. Well, her and the plastic surgeon. It’s my dad you can thank for my ability to malign you on this blog.
:) Okay - so maybe I am a fan. So sue me :)
Sue you? Who says that phrase, “So sue me” anymore? I think I actually want to sue you, if for nothing else but because you have used a total of three smiley faces over the course of this message like a seventh grader who just got their AOL 4.0 privileges back (credit for the AOL reference must be given to my friend Justine). Your profile says you are 32, but I am convinced you are actually closer to 80. I think I should set you up on a male date with The Lisper so you can trade clutch phrases from the early twenties and screw people over at your food cart together. Plus your photo is completely blurry, which might be worse than the chin up move that really fucked me over last week.