Dating different men
It's just gotten more buzz ever since Chloe, the infamous party girl and lead character from Of course, I’m not the only 20-something who jumped into a rotation immediately following a breakup.Nina, a 25-year-old accountant living in Chicago, started hers after a four-year relationship ended. And, Monica*, a 25-year-old producer in New York City, can also echo the experience.And, since I don't have a top-notch memory, it also requires keeping a handy list in my phone.The logic behind multi-dating isn’t rooted so much in the need to distract oneself with a bunch of dudes following a breakup (although it totally can be) as it is in what men have long called "playing the field.” And, it's certainly not a new concept.
And the bassist who insisted I listen to 10 minutes of his music while he watched me react to it.I was fresh out of a relationship, breakup wounds still searing.But, rather than stay single, I figured out what the hell I wanted from my next long-term partner, dove straight into dating, and found myself in the middle of a rotation — that is, seeing a multitude of men, all noncommittally.And the winner who showed up in sweatpants and couldn’t buy me a drink because he’d spent his last on a beer and wings special for himself. And there’ve been wonderful guys in the mix too, most of whom fizzled out because in this city, it’s just really hard to fit two people, and their ambitions, into one relationship. ”) Maybe a change of location — to New Bern, North Carolina; Miami, Florida; Austin, Texas; Sioux Falls, South Dakota; Detroit, Michigan; and Los Angeles, California — was the answer.Things move so fast in New York that I only recently stopped to ask myself how I’d wound up here, over 35 and still single, but not always wanting to be. I’d already crossed the fuck-it-something's-got-to-give threshold of my New York dating life. If this trip had been a blind date, I would’ve walked out of the bar the second I saw New Bern’s offerings, via a terrifying night of Tindering.
That’s the feeling that rises up in my throat whenever anyone asks me the totally non-condescending question of why I’m still single, which I’ve answered so many times in so many tones (“Just haven't met the right guy, I guess! There was the guy who kept taking calls from a number he’d labeled “Happy Happy Fun Time,” which turned out to be his drug dealer.