date 3 - poop man

We met at night, in a corner. Lexington and 50 something. He got there first. He then said he would be at "Crumbs". A commercial cupcake place (and not even good cupcakes!) is not my idea of a good date, but hell, all for the sake of adventure, right?
I had tea, he had decaf. He had a red velvet and thought we would share. I said I only use those kind of calories with things that are worth it. I tried a forkful and was assured by my own decision.
We sat down in this brightly lit cupcake place while the only man attending was starting to clean up so he could go home. It was, clearly, not a romantic date.
A lawyer, 32, with a masters in Math from Harvard. Very sexy brain. Again, damn those profile pictures, he was not as cute as his photogenic self. He had been back in the city for a few months. He had worked in some underdeveloped country where he was setting up some non-profits to give free legal aid of some sort. He was leaving in a few months to Ethiopia to do the same. 
After the 'Crumbs" man kicked us out we just walked around Lexington and then moved to Park Avenue. 
It had been raining all that day so I was wearing my very bright orange rain boots. I was also feeling great so I was wearing a very short blue dress. He was impressed, I could tell.

He told me how he calls his brother-in-law up to tell him his sister is ovulating. He had overheard a conversation regarding her sister's eggs during the wedding time so now he, as a good mathematician, remembered her cycle. Now he really wanted a niece or nephew. He harassed his brother-in-la.
This guy was funny.
His mother was in Film Production and his family reunions sounded like something I would be very entertained by. He mentioned his twin brother and we discussed their looks, the obvious question being: "who is the handsomer of the two?"
He told me that the thing he talks about the most with his brother is poop. I understood. Somehow poop turns into a topic of conversation between my brothers and me. Poop seems to be a sibling-theme.
We sat by a sculpture on Park Avenue and I told him, between bursts of laughter, the story of the 'Great Poop' (I can't really repeat it, but it has to do with a parent, their back surgery, and a poop so large that as it was pushed out, it broke bone).
I let him walk me home. We discussed his trips. He is 32. In about five or seven years he will be just right. He still has a lot of movement to do before he feels comfortable in his own skin. But then again, there aren't many people with whom you can share poop stories at midnight on Park Avenue, right?

Why? why not!

So, how is your Dating life in NY? Isn't it fun? Isn't it grand? Isn't it great? aren't you having the best time?
NO. 

I am in my early thirties and I moved to this city about two years ago. Dating in this city sucks!
Firstly, it is so hard to find who to date! How does one meet people? Yes, I know, the age-old-question. But, it shouldn't be so impossible, should it? I mean, people have been meeting people since, well, forever. So, why is it so hard to meet people now?
Is it the city? We are all so busy that we don't have time to look up from our smartphones or kindles or any other electronic device at our disposal. Or is it just the way we interact? We walk around (I walk around) with headphones. I listen to the news, or music, audiobooks, or have long distance conversations with my friends from faraway lands. Is it unusual that no one actually speaks to me because my earphones say: unavailable, please come back at a later date and maybe I will give you a minute of my attention.
No, it isn't that, or maybe slightly that. But even if I walked around without any electronics, would I meet guys to date? probably not. Or rather, no.
Is it that the guys feel that because there are more of us and less of them they can act in whatever way their mother didn't teach them right and get away with it? Probably... but still, to meet these douchy guys, how does one go about doing that? oh, right, bars. I don't do that. SPending time and money sitting alone in a bar expecting to be 'picked up' like the good catch of the day... Not my idea of a good evening well spent. 

So what is left? the Internet! obviously.

I have belonged to a dating site for years. It has proven to be the worst dates I have ever had, and the most anecdotic ones too.
I always say: a bad date makes a great story.
Now I have joined the gazillion others who peruse the web in search of a-long-term-relationship / activity-partners / casual-sex/ short-term-relationship / la-di-da...

And not only have I joined, but I go on dates. I am meeting very strange men. And if I am meeting such strange individuals, why not write about it?