December 04, 2004

Eurotrash nails it: that sense of unshakeable dread all (okay, MANY) straightish youngish New York women (unless they're models) feel around our town's special breed of straightish youngish urban males. Eurotrash also has something against permalinks, it seems, so I'll reprint her latest post here:

New York man, you can run but you can't hide any more. I've finally figured you out.

Last night I met a lot of New York men. In various bars. And for once, just once, I was sober. Ish. All night. I need to employ this trick more often, as it appears to have revelatory powers. Who knew?

A bit of scene setting for you.

Four girls. Maccers, Elizabeth, Stacy No-blog and me. And about 12 New York Men (let's call them NYMs). Some I knew, some were new. And over the course of the evening, as events unravelled in a bewilderingly familiar fashion, I suddenly realised I had it all down pat. Inside, I laughed. Outside, I continued hoping I looked cool.

But here's how, I've finally realised it works.

1. When a NYM is introduced to you, he shakes your hand, looks at you longlingly with those gorgeous sparkling eyes and instantly rates you in comparison with every other female resident in his temporary hunting ground. Needless to say, I was a screaming fourth last night. When I say rate, I really refer to a dual-concept sliding scale. He'll adjust that scale on a real-time basis depending on a girl's availability, presence of boyfriend, and drunkenness, co-factoring in the location, lateness of night and any emerging possibility that if he doesn't at least make an effort to pick ME up, he might be going home alone.

2. When a NYM talks to you, he makes every effort to convince you that it is YOU he loves. YOU alone. Until a higher rated girl comes back from the lavatory, at which point those shining beacons of love also known as his 'eyes' move back to their real target and you are left, alone and ugly in the darkness. Until she goes to the loo again.

3. NYM doesn't care you if you have a boyfriend or not. He's up for it. IF you're his number one pick. But if you're faithful, number two will do at 2am when the crowds in Balthazar are thinning. You see girls, it's not that he's 'just not that into you', it's just that you're halfway down the list. You need to wax more, and do something about your hair, to get promoted.

4. NYM is fascinating, funny and clever. He's cute and apparently well-adjusted and has an interesting [and well-paid] job in something cool to do with cool things. He'll talk to you in that charming slightly shallow way that lets you know he's a playa. He's cynical, world-weary and he won't call you the next day. But you knew that, didn't you? After all he warned you with all that boyish 'oh wow this is New York and aren't we all so dead inside and isn't it funny' repartee. Alienation is the new black, darling, so suck it up and don't complain. Above all, don't develop feelings. They're so five minutes ago. And his wife wouldn't like it, anyway.

5. NYM won't marry you if he's been dating you more than three months. He'll go out with you, fuck you on a regular basis, have brunch with you and all your friends, take you to weddings, introduce you to his folks, go to theatres and museums with you, allow your alternate toothbrush, deoderant and hair products to reside in his bathroom and generally behave as if he's settling happily down with you. But three days before that trip to Peru you both planned a year ago, he'll become unusually tense and silent. Two days before that trip to Peru you both planned a year ago he'll go out and get very drunk and stay out all night. One day before that trip to Peru you both planned a year ago he'll tell you he met a 23-year-old Estonian dental nurse and they're already engaged to be married. He'll insist on you meeting her, even as you're indulging in horrid break-up, make-up sex sessions after he makes you cry in bars because he's telling you how he doesn't love you as much as he loves some illiterate mono-lingual Estonian hotty whose idea of culture is a trip to McDonalds for a Happy Meal. Fucker will even invite you to the wedding, because he thinks that makes him incredibly enlightened and mature.

So there you have it. New York Man in all his glory. Rejoice Estonia! The rest of us girls are off to get drunk. This sober clarity shit is more than I can take.


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