:: part 3 ::

Robert Frost

Class of 2000

:: part 2 ::

Update: Post-Traumatic Dating Disorder (PTDD)

The Republican

The Deceiver

The Absolute Worst Date Ever

Mr. Migraine

Little Side Burn Guy

The Hanger On


Smelly Cat

:: part 1 ::

No Socks Guy

The Shrub



the yogi

Mr. Playoffs

the dodge

the yawner


the wedding guy

The 40 Year-old Orthopedic Surgeon


Philosophy Guy

Spanking the Yogi

  :: the shrub ::
My cousin who I am not that close with set me up with the Shrub. He described the Shrub as intelligent and witty (this often means dorky) but warned me that he was not that tall. This didn’t bother me. Though I prefer taller guys, I am not that tall myself. I am even shorter recently since this has been the season of the flat shoe. I was like 5'5" in those platform mules. But those are so like '98 now.

Anyway, the Shrub's first email seemed pretty normal, just intro stuff. So I wrote back. Then he sent a second email entitled "shrub." It had nothing to do with the contents of his email. So it must be a self-deprecating reference to his height, right? Or was he just trying to be playfully random? Most people I polled thought he was just trying to be random. But if you’re short, why make the subject line of your email a word for small tree????

So we met for a drink on a weekday night at a bar I like in Tribeca. Shrub had not left the Upper West Side in at least five years. He commented how excited he was to be going downtown to the financial district. What?! Then I asked him how his dissertation was going. (My grad student friends later told me that asking someone how their dissertations are going is the worst thing you can say to a grad student, but what do I know.)

He replied, “You know how there are Nine Circles of Hell in Dante’s Inferno”? Uh, no. Fine, maybe it’s lame that I don’t know this. But it’s still kind of dorky thing to say. “Well I’m in the ninth one, “ he said.

Ohhh. After this date, I know how just he feels.

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