A couple of days ago I ran into a friend who couldn’t wait to tell me about the great luck she was having with men lately. She explained that over the past four weeks she had gone on three different dates with three different men. And, on top of it she had a great time with all of them, gloating from the fact that now she had three options and was more than happy to test drive them all for a little while. As she told me her story, which was not at all cynical and actually resembled the freshness of a spring day I suddenly realized, spring is back in full fling.
Everyone’s stock is up and the dating market is in full bloom. Maybe it’s because the city is back to life again, the streets are friendlier, and everywhere you turn the Eiffel Tower is provoking you, stirring up your carnal urge for excitement that had been stifled by the cold and dreary winter. Pulling off the winter coats and replacing them with fresh vibrant colors, you can’t help but feel more attractive. Sexual tensions are everywhere. Yet, I couldn’t help but wonder if our stocks are up and the market is rising with no end in sight how fast will it fall and what will the impact be when we come back down to earth?
I have to admit; even though everyone’s value is rising in exponential ways, I didn’t necessarily feel I was prospering. Over the period of the last three months I dated two different men and just when I was ready to sell my stock something always seemed to come up. The first guy, Fabrice, was incredibly sexy, charming, and great with his mouth. We had met through our circle of friends and it seemed like it could have been a perfect relationship: we hung out in the same social setting, enjoyed each other’s company and his brown puppy dog eyes made my knees weak. It was your typical fling, in all senses of the word. For the short time period that it lasted I found that I was constantly pinching myself to make sure that it was actually happening. He had a talent for performing magic tricks and I made the mistake of asking if there was one specific trick he could perform: a disappearing act. To my surprise he could and after about a week I stopped wondering when he would reappear.
A few weeks later an America lawyer who worked and lived in Paris took me out on a very sophisticated date. On top of the expensive bottles of champagne he threw me for a loop when he told me that he was soon leaving for New York for six months and wanted me to come and visit him. Thinking that it was the most elaborate ploy to get a girl into bed I just sort of laughed at him. He went to Harvard and that was the best he could come up with! But I have to confess, I was intrigued- a free trip to New York and a constant flow of expensive champagne was tempting. We continued to see one another over the next few weeks and I found my passion for him mounting. We had great conversations; even better chemistry and hours flew by in minutes. He continuously asked me to come to New York and on the brink of saying yes it all came crashing down. His trip to New York was going to be proceeded by a vacation that he had been planning for months but the catch was he was going with an “ex”-girlfriend. When I asked him what he expected out of the trip he replied, “if all goes well, she’s the one I want to be with.”
Ironically the day he told me this was a Tuesday and it couldn’t have felt blacker than that Black Tuesday of October 1929. After three weeks of pumping me up, he couldn’t have sold my stock any faster or made me feel any more devalued than with one sentence. It wasn’t the fact that there was some other girl but more the fact that he had been so over the top with everything and acted like the future between us was endless. Two days before he was suppose to leave and our last night together he told me how he was sorry to have put me through this and admitted that he had no idea what he wanted anymore, which was supposed to be a hopeful sign for me. Before he left my apartment he told me to expect to hear from him some time at the beginning of May and his departing words were, “see you in New York.”
While it might be debatable what constitutes the beginning of May, after the second week of May was halfway through I assumed he wouldn’t be buying anymore of my stock no matter how many times I checked my email or looked to see if I had any missed calls.* And then the most wonderful thing happened. A few nights ago I met up with some friends and on my way to meet them I got a text from my best friend saying, “Fabrice is here!” One of the many wonderful things about girlfriends is there ability to raise your stock value in seconds. I walked into the bar feeling confident and slightly sassy. I couldn’t have played my cards better when by the end of the night my stock was back on the market. It is amazing how fast you can rocket when someone asks about the possibility of a second chance. That’s when I realized how much my stock was worth: priceless.
If spring flings are worth anything, they teach you how to survive the crash. If you can pick yourself up, brush of the dust and dirt from your hands and knees, slip on a new par of sexy stilettos and throw your head back and laugh, then you know the dating market is all fluff. Instead of valuing yourself on what didn’t work out you can begin to take into value the experiences you just had and you never know, your phone might start to ring again when you least expect it.
9 May 2006
*One side note, the lawyer did eventually call me again...six months later when he came back to Paris! I made the tragic mistake of getting back together with him (see I really don't learn anything from these columns!), but I was not fooled a third time!
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