Sunday, July 26, 2009

Boston and the Single Girl: Intro Part I

It all started when my dad said to me a few months ago, shaking his head, "I don't know anyone who has dated more than you have." I pondered his comment for a while, and thought to myself that he's right.

I'll be moving to Boston in six days, and my adventures there will be the subject of further entries. But in order for you to appreciate the pathetic nature of my love life, I need to provide you some background information, which I'll illustrate by describing the demise of my last significant relationship. Note that for the sake of anonymity, the names of all my former significant others and prospective suitors have been changed.

In March of 2008, I received a message from a member of the well-known/infamous Indian dating website shaadi.com. He described himself as a "tall athletic professional in New York City looking for someone to love and grow old with." Simple enough. He gave me his phone number, and asked me to call him when I had the chance to do so. Thus, a few days later, I called, leaving him a message on his voicemail. I then proceeded to the hospital for 24 hours of call on the pediatric floor, as I was completing my last year of residency. Needless to say, the call was horrific, leading me to quickly change into my pajamas when I reached my apartment the next morning, collapse into bed, and fall soundly asleep. About 5 p.m. that night, I received a phone call.

"Hi, it's Amit," the voice stated hesitantly.

"Oh, hi," I responded groggily. Who's Amit?

"From shaadi.com," he clarified.

"Oh, okay, hey there, hey Amit," I said. Okay, that Amit.

"Is this a bad time? You sound kind of tired," he noted, laughing nervously.

"No, it's fine. I was on-call last night. What's up?"

Against my better judgment, we decided to meet at Starbucks at Penn Station in New York City at 7 p.m. From there, he proposed that we go to the Max Brenner restaurant in Union Square for dessert. I looked at my clock, and realized that I wouldn't have time to shower. Hence, I yanked my go-to black wrap dress off a hanger in my closet, dug through my jewelry for my favorite silver earrings, got dressed, swiped some blush onto my cheeks, and dashed out the door to catch the next train into the City.

Upon arriving at Penn Station, I headed to Starbucks, in front of which I was to meet Amit. Suddenly my cell rings.

"Hey, Amit," I responded cheerily.

"Hey, I'm in front of Starbucks. Did I miss you?" he asked, sounding perplexed.

I looked at my watch, which read 7:15. "No," I stated, "I'm in front of Starbucks. We're talking about the Starbucks inside Penn Station, right? Not the one outside?"

"Right," he confirmed.

We both remained silent. "There must be..." he began.

"Another Starbucks in Penn Station," I said, completing his thought. "I can't believe I didn't know that there's another Starbucks in Penn Station. I've been here a million times."

I frantically began jogging, looking for the other Starbucks coffee shop. The phone rang again. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm at the other Starbucks," Amit declared.

"Oh, I went to your Starbucks, the first one that you were at," I related to him, shaking my head.

He began to laugh.

"Wait, don't move. I'll go to the other Starbucks again," I informed him.

I proceeded to make the trek to the Starbucks at which I had originally arrived. Where is he? I asked myself, looking around. Could I have actually missed him again?

"Hey," a voice behind me said, as I turned to my right and noticed a fair-skinned, muscular 6'2" Indian man. He wore a huge grin on his face. Oh my God, I thought to myself, I think I've met the Indian JFK, Jr. I looked up quickly, and gave God a silent high-five.

"Hi," I blurted out, laughing, extending my hand.

"Oh, okay, you want to shake hands?" Amit asked me, smiling, accepting my handshake.

"Actually, I just want to get out of Penn Station if that's okay, since I've been here for the past 30 minutes," I admitted. "Whoever thought meeting in front of Starbucks would be such a hassle?" Geez louise!

"Okay," he agreed. "Let's get out of here."

I know what you're thinking, dear Reader. So far, so good. However, stay tuned, for my story eventually takes a turn for the worse.