NOM
2017-02-09 03:13:59 UTC
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I asked the exact same question of every single bride who hired
me to work their wedding as a professional bridesmaid. It wasnt
about their biggest wedding-day fear or how much money they had
left in their budget. I asked how they met their fiance.
Part of me wanted to know because it was a great way to kick off
a conversation with a stranger who was hiring me to be their
bridesmaid for the day, and part of me wanted to know for my own
selfish reasons. For most of my time in this job, Ive been
single.
Their answers were part of my research on how they managed to
find the one thing I couldnt wrap my arms around without it
slipping away from me a loving and supportive relationship. I
figured that hearing about their meet-cutes would give me enough
inspiration and motivation to stop rolling my eyes at dating.
But after a while, their answers started to fall into three main
buckets:
The ones who met their match back in high school or college, an
opportunity I clearly missed.
The ones who met them at work, which wasnt going to happen to
me since I was running a business of one employee (me!) from my
living room.
The ones who met through the modern-day fairy tale of swiping
right on each others profile. I had tried that, again and
again, without any luck.
By asking that question over 40 times in two years, I hoped that
I would hear an unusual answer that would somehow magically end
my long-running reputation as the single one in my group of
friends. Quite literally, I was always the bridesmaid but never
the bride.
[6 things that cost as much as the average U.S. wedding]
It finally happened, last February, when I found myself sitting
across from a new bride of mine at a coffee shop on the Upper
West Side.
So, tell me, where did you and your fiance meet? I asked,
wondering what bucket her answer would fall into.
I gamified dating, she said, sipping her hot chocolate.
What does that mean? I shot back.
I decided to join JDate and go on four dates every Saturday. I
made a spreadsheet. Ranked guys by my preferences and narrowed
down my pool of guys into a top five and then picked the best
one. It only took me a month to meet my fiance.
You went on four dates a day? I asked, wondering how she had
the stamina.
Yes. Each date was 30 minutes. After it was over, Id walk
around the block and come back inside to meet my next date.
Here I was, talking to someone who treated dating like you might
would treat shopping for a car. Yet I was intrigued by her
technique. It seemed like an exhausting but fun challenge. I
wondered if I could survive it.
It is a numbers game, she told me.
I knew she was right. Going on one bad date every six months was
not helping my odds of finding something lasting.
After our meeting, I spent the subway ride home re-downloading
dating apps I had deleted. I was going to commit to going on 14
first dates during the month of February.
I set some rules: I would say yes to every guy that asked me
out, and I had to ask out guys whenever I felt the urge to meet
them in real life. No date could be longer than 45 minutes, and
if after the first date, I wasnt excited by the thought of
seeing them again, I would turn down the offer of a second date.
Two days later, I found myself on date one, with a guy who spent
most of our time together looking down at his phone and then
back up at the TV screen. When 45 minutes passed, I politely
asked for the check, went home and arranged first-date number
two for the next night. When Saturday arrived, I had scheduled
four dates for that day, each at coffee shops just two blocks
away from one another. The first date of the day was with a guy
much older than I was, leaving us with not much to talk about.
The second date was with a die-hard Donald Trump supporter who
spent the date pretending to be his campaign manager. The third
was with a guy who talked to me only about Ubers business
model. The fourth date, well, I practically was asleep by then.
The next six dates werent any better. There was a guy who
showed up late because he was doing drugs, a guy who spoke only
about how much money his parents had, and a guy who kept talking
about how perfect his ex-girlfriend was.
After I made it to the end of February and the end of my 14
dates, I wanted to text my bride and ask why this experiment
worked so well for her but not for me. Instead, I logged into
one of the dating apps, erased my profile, and searched for the
delete button. I noticed I had a new message from a guy named
Adam. Our match was expiring in four hours and we hadnt spoken
yet. He messaged me his phone number saying that if I saw this
before our match expired, I should text him.
No way, I said out loud. I wasnt so keen on texting a guy
first. But then I remembered that it was only March 1. Why not
go on date 15?
It has been about 11 months since I met Adam at a coffee shop on
a cold March day. I remember walking in, sluggish, thinking
about the many awful iterations of how this date could turn out.
But then I ended up thinking to myself as we chatted about
live music, the best pizza spots and, of course, my job as a
bridesmaid for hire that there was something different about
our conversation. It didnt feel like just another first date. I
had stopped looking at my watch and we were way over the 45
minute mark. We sat in that coffee shop for three hours.
I remember leaving that day, not sure if there would be a second
date, although I hoped there would be. I finally understood that
love is a numbers game. One where I must keep putting myself in
front of new people until finally I find one who feels a bit
different than the rest.
And yes, Adam and I are still going strong.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/soloish/wp/2017/02/08/dating-
wasnt-working-for-me-until-i-went-out-with-15-guys-in-one-
month/?tid=hybrid_experimentrandom_1_na&utm_term=.4c1d599df761
I asked the exact same question of every single bride who hired
me to work their wedding as a professional bridesmaid. It wasnt
about their biggest wedding-day fear or how much money they had
left in their budget. I asked how they met their fiance.
Part of me wanted to know because it was a great way to kick off
a conversation with a stranger who was hiring me to be their
bridesmaid for the day, and part of me wanted to know for my own
selfish reasons. For most of my time in this job, Ive been
single.
Their answers were part of my research on how they managed to
find the one thing I couldnt wrap my arms around without it
slipping away from me a loving and supportive relationship. I
figured that hearing about their meet-cutes would give me enough
inspiration and motivation to stop rolling my eyes at dating.
But after a while, their answers started to fall into three main
buckets:
The ones who met their match back in high school or college, an
opportunity I clearly missed.
The ones who met them at work, which wasnt going to happen to
me since I was running a business of one employee (me!) from my
living room.
The ones who met through the modern-day fairy tale of swiping
right on each others profile. I had tried that, again and
again, without any luck.
By asking that question over 40 times in two years, I hoped that
I would hear an unusual answer that would somehow magically end
my long-running reputation as the single one in my group of
friends. Quite literally, I was always the bridesmaid but never
the bride.
[6 things that cost as much as the average U.S. wedding]
It finally happened, last February, when I found myself sitting
across from a new bride of mine at a coffee shop on the Upper
West Side.
So, tell me, where did you and your fiance meet? I asked,
wondering what bucket her answer would fall into.
I gamified dating, she said, sipping her hot chocolate.
What does that mean? I shot back.
I decided to join JDate and go on four dates every Saturday. I
made a spreadsheet. Ranked guys by my preferences and narrowed
down my pool of guys into a top five and then picked the best
one. It only took me a month to meet my fiance.
You went on four dates a day? I asked, wondering how she had
the stamina.
Yes. Each date was 30 minutes. After it was over, Id walk
around the block and come back inside to meet my next date.
Here I was, talking to someone who treated dating like you might
would treat shopping for a car. Yet I was intrigued by her
technique. It seemed like an exhausting but fun challenge. I
wondered if I could survive it.
It is a numbers game, she told me.
I knew she was right. Going on one bad date every six months was
not helping my odds of finding something lasting.
After our meeting, I spent the subway ride home re-downloading
dating apps I had deleted. I was going to commit to going on 14
first dates during the month of February.
I set some rules: I would say yes to every guy that asked me
out, and I had to ask out guys whenever I felt the urge to meet
them in real life. No date could be longer than 45 minutes, and
if after the first date, I wasnt excited by the thought of
seeing them again, I would turn down the offer of a second date.
Two days later, I found myself on date one, with a guy who spent
most of our time together looking down at his phone and then
back up at the TV screen. When 45 minutes passed, I politely
asked for the check, went home and arranged first-date number
two for the next night. When Saturday arrived, I had scheduled
four dates for that day, each at coffee shops just two blocks
away from one another. The first date of the day was with a guy
much older than I was, leaving us with not much to talk about.
The second date was with a die-hard Donald Trump supporter who
spent the date pretending to be his campaign manager. The third
was with a guy who talked to me only about Ubers business
model. The fourth date, well, I practically was asleep by then.
The next six dates werent any better. There was a guy who
showed up late because he was doing drugs, a guy who spoke only
about how much money his parents had, and a guy who kept talking
about how perfect his ex-girlfriend was.
After I made it to the end of February and the end of my 14
dates, I wanted to text my bride and ask why this experiment
worked so well for her but not for me. Instead, I logged into
one of the dating apps, erased my profile, and searched for the
delete button. I noticed I had a new message from a guy named
Adam. Our match was expiring in four hours and we hadnt spoken
yet. He messaged me his phone number saying that if I saw this
before our match expired, I should text him.
No way, I said out loud. I wasnt so keen on texting a guy
first. But then I remembered that it was only March 1. Why not
go on date 15?
It has been about 11 months since I met Adam at a coffee shop on
a cold March day. I remember walking in, sluggish, thinking
about the many awful iterations of how this date could turn out.
But then I ended up thinking to myself as we chatted about
live music, the best pizza spots and, of course, my job as a
bridesmaid for hire that there was something different about
our conversation. It didnt feel like just another first date. I
had stopped looking at my watch and we were way over the 45
minute mark. We sat in that coffee shop for three hours.
I remember leaving that day, not sure if there would be a second
date, although I hoped there would be. I finally understood that
love is a numbers game. One where I must keep putting myself in
front of new people until finally I find one who feels a bit
different than the rest.
And yes, Adam and I are still going strong.
https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/soloish/wp/2017/02/08/dating-
wasnt-working-for-me-until-i-went-out-with-15-guys-in-one-
month/?tid=hybrid_experimentrandom_1_na&utm_term=.4c1d599df761