Category Archives: Dating

Cheer's Favorites, Dating, Internet Dating

Internet Dating: Richie

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After numerous friends’ positive reports on internet dating, Cheer finally decides to give it a try. She begins a conversation with a man who appears too attractive to be on a dating website, proffers signs of intelligence, feels perfectly emotionally unavailable, and seems like just enough of a narcissist to get her motor running.

Cheer and Richie discuss film through the exchange a few messages before Richie asks to meet. Cheer agrees, and a week or so later, they’ve arranged a date on a Monday.

The bar chosen for the date is very small. The entire room can be viewed from the front door, and there are just 8 seats at the bar. Cheer arrives 5 minutes fashionably late and sits at the bar next to the only man who could be Richie. He has facial hair and a hat on—things absent from his profile pictures.

Cheer: “Hi.”
Man: “Hi.”
The man is expressionless, offers no handshake, and does not open his posture to Cheer.
Cheer: “How’s it going?”
Man: “All right.”
Cheer: “What are you drinking?”
Man: “Gin and tonic.”
Cheer orders a Manhattan. It is the worst Manhattan she’s ever had.
Cheer: “It’s really warm out tonight.”
Man: “Yeah.”
Cheer begins to doubt that the man next to her is Richie. She thinks she may be making awkward conversation with a random bar patron—who doesn’t much care for it. She decides to mention something specific, hoping for confirmation, bracing for a truly awkward moment with a stranger.
Cheer: “So, Connecticut, huh?”
Man: “What?”
Cheer: “Connecticut. You just drove down from Connecticut, right?”
Man: “Oh. Yeah.”
Cheer is relieved she has the right guy, but is annoyed by his lack of acknowledgement or enthusiasm.
Cheer: “Your profile says you live in NYC, but evidence suggests that you’re a dirty, dirty liar and you really live in Connecticut.”
Richie: “Yeah, I’m a dirty, dirty liar.”
Cheer: “How long did it take you to drive here?”
Richie: “Oh, about 2 hours.”
Cheer: “Holy crap. You live really far away.”
Richie: “Yeah.”
Cheer: “You’re lucky I like unavailable men. This could still work out.”
Richie: “Cool.”
Cheer: “So, what do you do in Connecticut?”
Richie: “Live with my grandmother for free, and play, I mean, create video games.”
Cheer: “How old are you?”
Richie: “30.”
Cheer: “So, tell me about making video games at grandma’s.”
Richie: “Essentially, I’m building this game that requires thousands of man hours and a team of people. But, I’ve decided to not follow the typical format for creating a game, do the steps out of order, and do it alone, because no one wants to work for free. And I live with my grandmother and play video games, so I can’t exactly pay anyone.”
Cheer: “So, do you feel that you’ll complete this project? And if so, will it be profitable? Or is this a hobby?”
Richie: “Oh, totally profitable. I also have a patent for a design element in this type of game. It’s brilliant, because I’m brilliant, and it’s worth, like, a bajillion dollars.”
Cheer: “That’s cool.”
Richie: “But, I’ll never put forth the effort to make any money from it.”
Cheer: “You’re becoming more of a catch every minute.”
Richie: “I’m a total catch. Have I mentioned that I’m super smart? My IQ test results prove it. I won’t tell you my IQ though, because you’d just feel stupid. Have you ever had your IQ tested?”
Cheer: “No.”
Richie: “I’ve taken all those expensive official tests.”
Cheer: “Why so many?”
Richie: “They thought I might be retarded as a child.”
Cheer: “What a wonderful topic to bring up on the first date.”
Richie: “I’m retarded like that.”
Cheer: “What did you do as a child that made them start testing you?”
Richie: “I didn’t speak until I was 3 years old.”
Cheer: “At all?”
Richie: “Not a word. I didn’t even babble.”
Cheer: “Then, at age 3, you started babbling?”
Richie: “Oh, no. At 3, when I first spoke, I spoke in complete, grammatically correct sentences.”
Cheer: “That’s believable.”
Richie: “So, once I started talking, my parents asked me why I hadn’t spoken before.”
Cheer: “And?”
Richie: “And I told them that I didn’t have anything to say.”
Cheer: “What a plausible tale.”
Richie: “Also, I never walked or crawled. I started running at 9 months.”
Cheer: “Running at 9 months, silent until master of speech at 3. Obviously you’re a genius.”
Richie: “Pretty much.”
Cheer: “So, genius, since you’re not ready to sell your game or your patent, what do you do for money?”
Richie: “I just pick up jobs now and then from Craigslist, work enough to not work for a while, and generally continue to jerk off in my grandmother’s basement while she makes me pie.”
Cheer: “You’re livin’ the dream.”
Richie: “Indeed.”
Cheer: “So, if money were no object, what would you be doing? Would you be making a video game?”
Richie: “Probably.”
Cheer: “Is that your thing though? Anything else?”
Richie: “Well, the other things are very NC-17.”
Cheer: “What?”
Richie: “We’ve been having a very PG-13 conversation, and my other interests are more of an NC-17 topic.”
Cheer: “OK. Try me.”
Richie: “Well, basically I like to have a lot of sex. Like, a lot of sex. And, if I had it my way, I’d have five women.”
Cheer: “So, the answer to your million dollar question is to have a harem of five.”
Richie: “Yeah. I think five would be the perfect number.”
Cheer: “So, these five women… Do they know about each other?”
Richie: “Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
Cheer: “OK. So, why five? Why is five the perfect number?”
Richie: “Well, once you pass five, it’s difficult to see each one very often. I’d like to have them in a good rotation, not just every few weeks. Plus, I can’t have sex with someone for very long without it being more than sex, and more than five of that type of relationship would be taxing.”
Cheer: “I’m starting to find this one hour relationship with you pretty taxing.”
Richie: “It only gets more ridiculous from here.”
Cheer: “Then let’s get another drink. If you’re going to talk about a harem of five—which I’m not yet sure if you’re inviting me to be a part of—I need more booze.”
Richie: “OK.”
Cheer, having learned her lesson with the Manhattan, orders a rye whiskey on the rocks, and Richie follows suit.

five_girls

Richie: “So, I wasn’t kidding when I said I like to have a lot of sex.”
Cheer: “Contrary to most of our conversation to this point, I didn’t doubt that.”
Richie: “I mean, like twice a day. Or maybe even like, twice a day, but also, three times a day, twice a week.”
Cheer: “Got it.”
Richie: “So, you know, that’s part of why I need multiple girls, because I’d just wear one out. Like, once I was dating these two girls—who knew about each other—but one got super jealous one day and demanded I be her monogamous boyfriend. I told her OK, but that she needed to understand that that would mean that I would only be having sex with her. And, I had to ask if she was, like, ready for that, cause, she knows me, and knows how much sex I need.”
Cheer: “Let’s talk more about your insatiable sexual appetite and your exes. I’m super stoked about these topics.”
Richie: “OK, well, there was this girl I grew up with who I always wanted to fuck.”
Cheer: “Who doesn’t have at least one of those?”
Richie: “Well, this girl is like, supermodel hot.”
Cheer: “So, why’d you never tap that?”
Richie: “She’s a virgin.”
Cheer: “Currently? Or when you knew her?”
Richie: “Both… As far as I know.”
Cheer: “Why is this supermodel girl a virgin? Religion?”
Richie: “No.”
Cheer: “Missing limb?”
Richie: “No.”
Cheer: “Then what?”
Richie: “Her mom had her when she was 18. She was trying to avoid becoming her parents by avoiding having sex at all.”
Cheer: “What a shitty decision.”
Richie: “I know, right?”
Cheer: “So, this supermodel…”
Richie: “Yeah?”
Cheer: “If she asked you to take her v-card now, would you?”
Richie: “Hell yeah. But, I mean, I feel like I’d have to warn her.”
Cheer: “Warn her?”
Richie: “Yeah…cause, like, maybe she’d want to find a smaller penis that would be easier to handle. But, I’d be so flattered she asked me, I don’t think I’d really say that.”
Cheer: “You’d just pulverize that tight pussy without warning.”
Richie: “Exactly.”

The bar is closing early, due to it being a Monday night, and Cheer and Richie get their bill. They each put $30 on a $43 dollar bill, and the bartender asks if they’d like change.
Richie: “Yes. Absolutely. We need change.”
Cheer: “OK. I’m going to the restroom.”
Cheer returns.
Richie: “Do you have like $1? Or like 60 cents?”
Cheer: “60 cents? For the tip? I would never give you 60 cents to give as tip. But, I have an entire dollar.”
Richie: “OK.”
Richie has left $8 on the bar, pocketed the other $9, and asked Cheer for an additional dollar. Cheer initially puts down the dollar, then two more for their extended time at the bar with few drinks.
Outside the bar, Richie: “But wait, you put in like $5 more than me.”
Cheer: “Whatever.”
Richie: “But, what if you never see me again? You’ll never get your $5 back.”
Cheer: “Seeing as you just pocketed our change and asked me for more money, I know I’ll never get any money back. Also, I just put in $33 on our $53 total. I paid $13 more.”
Richie: “No comment. Let’s walk.”

Cheer and Richie walk a few blocks before Cheer stops them.

Cheer: “Are we walking with a destination?”
Richie: “I don’t know. Where’s your apartment?”
Cheer glares at Richie: “I don’t know. Where’s your car?”
Richie: “It’s up a few blocks.”
Cheer: “OK.”

Cheer and Richie arrive at Richie’s car.

Richie: “So, can I give you a ride?”
Cheer: “No, thanks.”
Richie: “Really?”
Cheer: “Really.”
Richie: “Then will you sit in my car and talk with me for a minute?”
Cheer: “No, I’m good right here.”
Richie: “Really? This smoking 1997 Pontiac doesn’t make you want to get inside and take all your clothes off?”
Cheer: “No, no it does not. You can’t talk to me here.”
Richie: “But, it’s so…public.”
Cheer: “Exactly.”

Cheer and Richie are quiet for a moment before Richie speaks.

Richie: “Do you know what a posterior fornix is?”
Cheer: “Posterior forn—”
Richie: “It’s this cavity behind the cervix. It’s like, the deepest part of the vagina.”
Cheer: “Why are you talking about this?”
Richie: “I like finding them.”
Cheer: “What?”
Richie: “Well, you know, because it’s so deep, most guys can never get near it. But, I happen to have a cock that’s good for locating posterior fornices. I thought you should know.”
Cheer: “When you mentioned your size earlier, while speaking about supermodel pussy pounding, I held doubt. But now that you’ve mentioned it twice, I know it must be huge.”
Richie: “I’d like to find your posterior fornix.”
Cheer: “Please stop talking.”
Richie: “I bet you’ve never experienced the full pleasures it has to offer. Even if you’ve had some big dick, it wasn’t my big dick, with my superior moves for posterior fornix pleasure.”
Cheer: “I’ve been so deprived. My posterior fornix is wriggling with anticipation of your godly penis. Finally, I found you.”

posterior_fornix

Richie: “I’m going to abruptly change the subject.”
Cheer: “Good idea.”
Richie: “You look different from your profile.”
Cheer: “And?”
Richie: “And what?”
Cheer: “You’re not supposed to mention that unless you say I look better, or give a compliment indicating your approval of what you see now.”
Richie: “Oh. OK. I really like your boobs.”
Cheer: “Uhhh…”
Richie: “And, mmmm…your hips.”
Cheer: “Thanks?”
Richie: “And your eyes…they’re alright.”
Cheer: “Just alright?”
Richie: “Yeah. But, your boobs. They’re…mmmm…yeah. They’re like a…a…34C? Yeah? No? Maybe D? You’re not a 32. Yeah, maybe a D. Not a double D. Yeah? See, with sizes, it’s complicated, cause like, the actual size of the cup changes depending on the other measurement, so you could be like a 36C or a 34D and I wouldn’t know. Can’t know, really. I slept with this girl once who was a double F. So, naturally, you know, she was a bigger girl. But, in a nice way. I mean, with boob size, there’s big, and then there are those who are just fat. So, you have to exclude the ones who are just fat, cause that’s different. But this girl, she was just bigger.”
Cheer: “OK, well on that note, I’m go—”
Richie: “She had a really nice round ass too.”
Cheer: “Ohhhkay.”
Richie: “Really round. Unnaturally big and round… But I had to stop sleeping with her because she was crazy. So, yeah, bra sizes are weird, cause, like, Victoria’s Secret’s sizes aren’t exactly the same. Those sizes are a little different. So, it’s hard to ever really tell by size, but yours….mmmm…are nice. I like you.”
Cheer: “Oh, joy.”
Richie: “Yeah, you’re pretty cute…and nice…you’re fuckable.”
Cheer: “Wow, I feel like a winner now. I’m so glad I’ve achieved fuckable status with you. I’m going home now.”
Richie: “Awww. No, don’t go yet.”
Cheer: “Yeah, I’m going.”
Richie: “But, now I’m all riled up, with a long drive ahead of me. And you’re leaving? What am I going to do with this hard on?”
Cheer: “Date over.”

Dating, Travel

Costa Rican Boyfriend

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A clerk strikes up conversation with Cheer’s Ecuadorian friend while they are checking out at a market in Costa Rica. With her limited Spanish, Cheer gathers that they are talking about cuy (aka guinea pig), a traditional dish in Ecuador. Cheer isn’t fully listening until she is being introduced to the clerk as a friend. The clerk’s attention shifts completely to Cheer.
Clerk: “If I eat cuy, can I be your boyfriend?”
Cheer: “What? No.”
Clerk: “Why not?”
Cheer: “You’re not attractive.”
Clerk: “What?”
Cheer: “Because I’m a vegetarian.”
Clerk: “If I become a vegetarian, can I be your boyfriend?
Cheer: “No.”
Clerk: “Why not?”
Cheer: “Omitting meat from your diet will not make you attractive.”
Clerk: “Huh?”
Cheer: “Because you’d have to move to New York.”
Clerk: “I’ll move to NY for you. If I move to NY and become a vegetarian, can I be your boyfriend?”
Cheer: “Your stalker dedication is flattering, but no.”
Clerk: “Why?”
Cheer: “How do you know I don’t already have a boyfriend?”
Clerk: “I can see it in your face.”
Cheer: “Oh? What about my face tells you that?”
Clerk: “I can just tell.”
Cheer: “Un-huh. You’ve got a sixth sense for boyfriends, eh?”
Clerk: “Yeah, I’m talented like that. You want a talented boyfriend. So, can we meet up later?”
Cheer: “Oh, clerky-clerk, you’re a helluva bargainer, but, I’m still going with no. Sorry.”
Clerk: “Awww, c’mon. Really?”
Cheer: “Really.”


costa rican boyfriend

Two days later, Cheer is on the same street walking alone. She sees Clerk. Because he sees her too, she smiles and gives a wave, simply to acknowledge they had met previously. She continues walking. Clerk runs to catch up to her.
Clerk: “Hola.”
Cheer: “Hola.”
Clerk: “Can I walk with you?”
Cheer: “If you agree not to ask if you can be my boyfriend.”
Clerk: “Awww, why, you don’t want me to be your boyfriend?”
Cheer: “Nope. Sorry.”
Clerk: “OK, OK. So, what are you doing here?”
Cheer: “I’m waiting for the bus back to my hotel.”
Clerk: “And where are your friends?”
Cheer: “Watching the game in that bar.”
Cheer and Clerk talk for a few minutes about his fluency in English due to his Louisiana-born mother, Cheer’s travels in Costa Rica and other chit-chat topics, before Clerk brings the conversation back around.
Clerk: “So, what are you doing tonight? Can I be your boyfriend tonight?”
Cheer: “I thought we had an agreement.”
Clerk: “What’s wrong? You don’t want a Costa Rican boyfriend?”
Cheer: “A hot one, sure.”
Clerk: “What?”
Cheer: “What if I already have one?”
Clerk: “You don’t.”
Cheer: “How do you know?”
Clerk: “If you had one, he’d be here with you right now.”
Cheer: “Are you sure?”
Clerk: “Yeah. You don’t have one. You need a Costa Rican boyfriend.”
Cheer: “Oh, and where do you suppose I might find one?”
Clerk: “Why don’t you let me be your boyfriend?”
Cheer: “Why won’t you accept my rejection?”
Clerk: “You’re rejecting me?”
Cheer laughs: “Yes, sorry.”
Clerk: “Awww, c’mon, you know what they say…”
Cheer: “What?”
Clerk: “Once you go black…”
Cheer cocks her head and raises her eybrows.
Cheer: “You’re serious.”
Clerk: “Yeah.”
Cheer: “Why do you assume I haven’t ‘gone black’?”
Clerk: “I can just tell.”
Cheer: “Oh, boy. Here we go again.”
Clerk: “I could go again and again.”
Cheer: “I’m sure you could.”
Clerk: “So can I be your boyfriend again and again tonight?”
Cheer: “While this repetative conversation is highly ammusing, I’m going to again and again turn down your offer.”
Clerk: “But…”
Cheer: “My bus is here.”
Clerk: “But…”
Cheer: “Nice to meet you. I hope you find another to be your girlfriend tonight.”
Clerk: “But I never get anyone to be my girlfriend.”
Cheer: “Maybe you want to work on your approach, and you know, get hotter.”
Clerk: “If I work on my approach and get hotter will you let me be your boyfriend?”
Cheer: “Perhaps. Next time I’m in Costa Rica, give it another try. Adios.”
Clerk: “Adios.”

Dating

Sterling

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Cheer and three friends stand outside a karaoke bar smoking. A suit exits the bar and asks for a cigarette.

Cheer: “What’s your name, Suit?

Suit: “Sterling.”

Cheer raises one eyebrow: “Sterling? Really?”

Sterling: “Yes. What’s your name?”

Cheer: “Cheer—a totally common name. But your name’s not fucking Sterling. What’s your real name?”

Sterling: “It really is Sterling.”

Sterling pulls out his license. Within the 9 seconds it takes him to get it from his wallet, Cheer has forgotten why he is showing it to her, due to her didn’t-eat-dinner level of intoxication. Completely ignoring his name, age and other interesting secrets available on a license, Cheer’s drunken vision allows her only to see that it is a California license.

Cheer: “You’re from California?! No one else in the whole world is from California! This is a totally unique encounter! Let’s have a bonding moment and talk about which cities we used to live in. My blood alcohol content has nothing to do with my overexcitement about your previous residency in a state where I also used to reside.”

Sterling: “I accept your conversation offer.”

Cheer: “I’m done caring that you’re from California. What do you do in New York? Why on earth are you wearing a full suit?”

Sterling: “I’m an investment banker.”

Cheer: “How’s that workin’ out for ya?”

Sterling: “It’s crap. I’m the lowliest of the peons, with no real drive to climb the ladder. My father put me in this suit. I hate my life.”

Cheer: “Well, Sterling, you need to losen up. You need to have some fun! Get this fucking tie off and unbutton this top button. If you’re going to wear a suit in a karaoke bar, you have to mess it up a bit.”

While saying these things, Cheer losens Sterling’s tie and unbuttons his top button. This is a grand mistake.

Sterling: “Women don’t pay attention to me, let alone engage me in conversation and take my clothes off. I think I’m in love.”

Cheer: “That’s cute. Good talk. See ya later.”

Cheer and her friends finish smoking and go back inside, leaving Sterling to continue on his initial course away from the bar and toward his apartment. But Sterling follows them back into the bar.

Sterling: “I’m still here. I’m going to stand near you awkwardly and hope you talk to me again.”

Cheer: “OK, but if you’re staying, you’ve got to sing.”

Cheer proceeds to pick out a song for him. She scratches down “Hit Me Baby One More Time” by Britney Spears and hands Sterling the paper to hand in to enter the queue. Sterling holds the paper but stays with Cheer.

Sterling: “The fact that you started to remove my clothing has made me grow a small pair. I’ll now lean in close to your face and ask you to leave the bar with me to get a drink somewhere else.”

Cheer: “I’m beginning to see the error of my ways. I’m sorry, but I’m a terrible flirt and I have no intention of sleeping with you. I’m not leaving.”

Sterling: “OK, well, I’m going home then.”

Sterling throws Cheer an it’s-your-last-chance-to-keep-me-around look.

Cheer: “OK. Bye!”

He leaves.

A short while later, while standing in line for the bathroom, Cheer sees Sterling.

Cheer: “You’re still here? I thought you left!”

Sterling: “I pretended to leave so you’d realize how much you wanted me, and pounce on me upon my return.”

Cheer: “You have bad ideas.”

Cheer goes into the bathroom. Upon returning to the corner where her friends are, she sees Sterling on a couch across from her. She doesn’t pay him any mind and dances with her friend. Sterling approaches Cheer. He tries not so much to dance, but just to be near Cheer dancing. He leans toward Cheer as if to kiss her. She dodges his advance and runs screaming into the arms of her female companion.

Sterling: “I’m leaving.”

Cheer: “I’m totally OK with that.”

Sterling leaves.

A half hour passes and Cheer and her friend begin singing “Like A Virgin” by Madonna. After singing just a few lines, Sterling appears—again. He hands Cheer a tiny bouquet of flowers. Cheer begins to wonder if enough alcohol can lead to hallucinations. Continuing to sing, she places the flowers into Sterling’s losened, but still knotted tie. She avoids eye contact. The song ends.

Sterling: “Here, you dropped these in my tie.”

Cheer: “Yeah, about that… I’m sorry but I cannot accept those flowers.”

Sterling: “Why not?”

Cheer: “’Cause you’re really creeping me out.”

Sterling: “Isn’t that what girls want?”

Cheer: “Oh, dear. I’m going to blatantly lie to you now, hoping that it’s enough to drive you away for real this time, and make you forget I ever losened your tie.”

Sterling: “Like 9/11, I’ll never forget.”

Cheer: “See that guy over there? The one I was standing outside with?”

Cheer points to her friend-of-a-friend flirting companion for the evening, whom she met only hours earlier.

Sterling: “The guy who’s with your other friends, who gave me the don’t-choo-be-mackin’-this-girl-is-mine look earlier?”

Cheer: “Yes. That one. He’s my boyfriend.”

Sterling pushes the flowers toward Cheer.

Cheer: “Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend. I cannot accept the flowers.”

Sterling: “I could be your boyfriend.”

Cheer: “No. No. A whole lotta no.”

Sterling: “I accept defeat. I’m leaving again with my tiny flowers. Goodbye.”

Cheer is convinced Sterling would appear again, but his baby bouquet and bruised ego weren’t seen again.

Cheer's Favorites, Dating

Train Guy

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After a long summer double shift at work, Cheer is sweaty, disheveled, and exhausted. She gets on the express train toward home. Too tired to read, she puts her headphones in and mutes the din of the subway car with music.

While on the train, Cheer eyes an attractive man sitting across from her. Cheer and the man exchange glances for a few stops. (This is routine in the world of the subway. Two people admire each other, exchange looks, and within a few stops, one person exits the train, and they never see each other again.)

As the train approaches Cheer’s stop, she acknowledges this typical train situation and gives a mental goodbye. She throws a final glance at the man as she stands and prepares to exit the train. Just before the doors open, the man speaks to Cheer, but she doesn’t hear what he says due to her music.

Cheer removes her headphones: “What?”

The man repeats himself: “What’s your name?”

At this point, the doors have opened and Cheer is stepping out of the car. After a slight hesitation, the man jumps out of his seat and exits the train with Cheer.

Cheer: “So, this is your stop now, huh?”

Man: “Yes.”

Cheer laughs: “OK.”

Man: “What’s your name?”

Cheer: “Cheer. What’s yours?”

Man: “For the purpose of this story, you can call me Train Guy, because that’s how you’re going to reference me to your friends later anyway.”

Cheer: “True. OK. Train Guy. So, tell me, Train Guy, why’d you get off the train with me just now?”

Train Guy: “Well, I, I, I, just had to talk to you. You’re the most attractive person I’ve ever seen.”

Cheer: “Wow. Thank you. I think you’re just a regular amount of good looking.”

Train Guy: “That’s OK. As long as you’re paying attention to me. When I saw you, my heart started racing. The pounding in my chest was so intense, I just had to talk to you.”

Cheer: “That’s very sweet. So, how many times a week do you jump off a train for a girl?”

Train Guy: “None! Never! Just for you! You’re the first one!”

Cheer: “I don’t believe you, but, it’s still flattering.”

Train Guy: “This isn’t my stop. What am I doing jumping off the train so soon? It’s crazy! It’s because of you. You’re just so beautiful. So sexy. I just had to talk to you.”

Cheer: “Seeing as I’m a horrendous mess after a long day of food service, I’m taking all this to be extra complimentary.”

Train Guy: “Good.”

Cheer: “So, where are you from?”

Train Guy: “Africa.”

Cheer: “Africa’s a pretty big place. Care to be more specific?”

Train Guy: “Mali.”

Cheer and Train Guy continue to have small talk interspersed with exclamations from Train Guy like, “I can’t believe I got off the train!” and “You’re the hottest person I’ve ever seen!” The latter of which Cheer really never tires of hearing.

After walking and receiving compliments from Train Guy for about three blocks, Cheer stops and turns to face Train Guy on a corner.

Cheer: “OK. I’m going to walk by myself from here.”

Train Guy: “What? Really? Why?”

Cheer: “Because though you’re very flattering, you’re a complete stranger who just followed me off of the train, and you’re not going to accompany me all the way to my apartment and gain the knowledge of the location of my residence.”

Train Guy: “Oh. OK. Well, can I have your phone number?”

Cheer hesitates but ends up giving Train Guy her number. She then sends him on his way, and she goes home, ego boosted.

The following day at work, Cheer becomes increasingly curious about just how prematurely Train Guy exited the train. As if, the further the distance, the more attractive she must be. Eventually, she sends Train Guy a text message to find out.

CHEER: What’s your actual subway stop?

TRAIN GUY: One bajillionth street (30 blocks north of Cheer’s stop)

TRAIN GUY: What are you doing [sic]

CHEER: I’m at work.

TRAIN GUY: Me to. a call. You to night [sic]

CHEER: OK

TRAIN GUY: So. What time are you get off [sic]

Cheer doesn’t respond due to being at work. When she is done working, she sees a missed call from Train Guy. After getting home, she responds via text.

CHEER: Sorry I missed your call. I’m home now, but I’m going to bed. Talk tomorrow?

TRAIN GUY: ok

CHEER: Cool.

Minutes after this text exchange, Train Guy calls Cheer.

Cheer: “This isn’t tomorrow.”
Train Guy: “I know. But I wanted to talk to you.”
Cheer: “Un-huh.”

Cheer humors Train Guy by participating in a 10 minute conversation of get-to-know-you type exchanges. She then re-announces her intent to go to sleep and hangs up with Train Guy, agreeing to speak again soon and arrange a time to get together for a drink.

After nearly two weeks of only minimal text exchanges, Train Guy sends Cheer a text.

TRAIN GUY: can you send me your picture [sic]

Cheer decides this is slightly creepy and she will absolutely not send him a photo. Instead, she will craftily avoid the situation with humor.

CHEER: Have you forgotten what I look like?

TRAIN GUY: no

TRAIN GUY: You at work

CHEER: Yes

TRAIN GUY: What time are you get off [sic]

Cheer decides to ignore the last text. After she clocks out at work, she thinks she’s sending a text to her friend, whom she has arranged to meet that night. In true Hollywood writing style, Cheer accidentally sends the text to Train Guy.

CHEER: I just clocked out. Where are you?

Cheer has no idea she has sent this message to Train Guy instead of her friend until Train Guy responds, overjoyed by Cheer finally giving some initiative to see him. Cheer slaps her forehead and feels awful, since the situation cannot be explained to Train Guy truthfully, and now she has gotten herself into quite a pickle. She wriggles out of her accidental text saying she’s tired and going home.

After two plus weeks, Cheer has a Monday night off work and decides it’s high time she gave Train Guy a chance. She texts him to arrange a date.

After a handful of texts, it has been decided they will meet on Monday, at 9pm. They agree to speak on Monday to arrange a place. To Cheer, this means the conversation is over, and the next appropriate time for contacting one another is on Monday. Minutes after Cheer’s assumed completion of the conversation, Train Guy sends an additional text.

TRAIN GUY: I miss you.

Cheer goes into a panic. Her inner monologue consists of repeating the statement “Oh, fuck. I just made a date with a crazy person.”

After a few minutes she settles from her panic and turns to her brain for logic. Trying desperately to give Train Guy the benefit of the doubt, Cheer credits this statement to his poor English, and Cheer assures herself, he can’t really think he misses her; he just doesn’t understand the weight of these words in English. Finally she responds in the most light-hearted way she can muster.

CHEER: Nah… You can’t miss someone you don’t know. You just want to see me.

Though she scrambled for some type of explanation for his ‘I miss you’ text, Cheer knows deep down, that she has actually made a date with a crazy person.­ She decides to follow through with the date anyway, mostly just to see what happens.

Monday comes, and, via text, Cheer suggests to Train Guy that they meet at a wine bar a few subway stops from her apartment. Train Guy responds.

TRAIN GUY: I sorry idont dorink [sic]

After Cheer recovers from the humor of his typos, the meaning of the words hit her. Cheer had been apprehensive about the date since the “I miss you” text, and the thought of having a dry date with a crazy person only fuels her anxiety. Never has she felt like such an alcoholic.

Cheer’s train of thought: “Oh, shit. Doesn’t drink? Who doesn’t drink? I can’t go on a date with someone who’s crazy and doesn’t drink! AA member. He must be an alcoholic. I’m nervous. Why am I nervous? I’ve already written this guy off, why am I freaking out? I need a drink…”

After Cheer overcomes her reaction, she tries to think of what people in NYC do on a first date without drinking. She realizes, maybe she doesn’t just feel like an alcoholic, maybe she is an alcoholic. She thinks of canceling. She texts Train Guy, and does her best to sound like a rational human being—one who doesn’t panic when threatened with the absence of alcohol.

CHEER: OK. Well, what would you like to do instead?

TRAIN GUY: We go to the restaurant? [sic]

TRAIN GUY: Do you tike African food? [sic]

Cheer panics all over again at the thought of committing to an entire dry dinner with “I miss you” man. It’s too early to claim she’d already eaten. She gives in. She realizes she behaving like an alcoholic child, and no one likes alcoholic children.

CHEER: Well, I’m a vegetarian, so what limited African food I’ve had, I liked. Do you have a place in mind?

TRAIN GUY: Yes

Cheer feels that a “yes” answer in this situation warrants a follow up text giving more information. Such a text does not come.

CHEER: Care to tell me which one? What’s the name of the restaurant? Where is it?

TRAIN GUY: Meet me in 116. St. Ok [sic]

CHEER: Where on 116th? Where’s the restaurant?

TRAIN GUY: Cool

CHEER: Ummmm…. 116th and what avenue? What time?

A half hour passes without a response from Train Guy.

CHEER: ?

TRAIN GUY: 8 av [sic]

CHEER: What corner? What time?

Cheer is beginning to feel like she’s holding a text conversation with someone who is highly intoxicated, despite Train Guy’s claim of sobriety. Still, she refuses to call, due to her aversion to speaking with people she doesn’t know well on the phone.

TRAIN GUY: What time are you tike? [sic]

CHEER: How about 8:30?

TRAIN GUY: Ok

Cheer decides not to attempt to get any more info from Train Guy, but to tell him which corner.

CHEER: OK. 8:30. Northwest corner.

Cheer has some time to kill before 8:30, and decides to pre-game for her date. If she can’t drink on the date, she figures she might as well take the edge off beforehand. Two beers later, Cheer leaves her apartment to meet Train Guy.

Come 8:30, Cheer and Train Guy meet, not on the northwest corner, but after a phone call and passing each other mid-crosswalk.

The restaurant is a no frills, homey joint, with paper napkins, plastic water cups, and no AC. Cheer is fine with this, actually enjoying the atmosphere, but hoping it means the food is grand, the way only hole-in-the-wall type places can be.

Cheer and Train Guy are seated. They order only water to drink. Skimming the menu, Cheer doesn’t find a single vegetarian dish. When the server arrives, Cheer asks for a vegetarian suggestion. The server suggests ordering sides. This is something to which Cheer, a lifelong vegetarian, has become accustomed, but in this instance, she’s a little peeved that, after she specifically mentioned her diet, Train Guy took her here. A plate piled high with carbohydrates arrives as Cheer’s meal. Whereas most restaurants offer some kind of vegetable as a side, there was no such glory here. Cheer is a big fan of carbohydrates, make no mistake, but typically, a girl on a first date has no desire to consume a plate of rice and plantains the size of her head.

Cheer quickly gets over the lack of exciting food and gets to conversing with Train Guy. She gets right to the things she wants to know.

Cheer: “So, why don’t you drink?”

Train Guy: “I’m Muslim.”

Cheer feels an extreme urge to flag down the server and order a strong drink. She resists.

Cheer the atheist: “Oh, shit.”

Cheer: “So, like, a for reals Muslim? Like, pray 5 times a day, don’t drink, believe in one true monkey in the sky, Muslim?”

Train Guy: “Yes.”

At this point, 5 sentences into their date, Cheer is done. She knows she could never date a seriously religious person, and from here on out, the dinner is about platonic interest for Cheer, no longer a date. This takes a lot of pressure off of her and allows Cheer to ask questions about whatever she wants to know, without attachment to the answers.

Cheer and Train Guy proceed to talk all about Train Guy’s religion, his mosque, his job, his praying, how he takes breaks at work to pray, his views about marriage, his goals (or lack thereof), his homophobia, his aversion to crying due to it being an unacceptable activity for men, his family, his life in Africa, his life in NY, his ex, and pretty much every topic you were ever told to avoid upon first meeting someone. Some of Cheer’s favorite excerpts from her conversation with Train Guy are as follows:

THE EX

Train Guy is speaking of his ex-girlfriend, explaining why they broke up: “She drank.”

Cheer: “I drink. That’s not a problem for you?”

Train Guy: “You’re different. I mean, we would go out for dinner, and she would have to have wine, every time. But you, you’re here, and you’re just having water, and it’s fine.”

Cheer: “Pre-game? What pre-game? Two beers? Who? Me? I didn’t have two beers. What are you looking at? I’m a perfect angel who would never prepare for a dry date by drinking. Pshhh! I am so above your ex. I mean, who would feel the need to drink around you? Speaking of your ex, I think I might like her. Maybe we could be friends.”

HOMOSEXUALITY

Train Guy says something in passing during the conversation which alerts Cheer to the fact that he has different views on homosexuality.

Cheer: “Wait, what? You think homosexuality is a choice?”

Train Guy: “Well, kind of.”

Cheer: “What do you mean kind of?”

Train Guy: “Well, most lesbians are lesbians because a man treated them poorly at some point.”

Cheer: “Most? What about the rest?”

Train Guy: “Well, the rest just want to be men.”

Cheer: “Oh. Of course. That makes perfect sense. What could be more true? So, let’s follow your pattern for men… Are most gay men gay because they were mistreated by a woman at some point?”

Train Guy very matter of factly: “No. Men just choose it, because they want it.”

Cheer: “Uhhhhhhh…”

Train Guy: “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know why, but they choose it.”

Cheer doesn’t have words and her face shows it.

Train Guy: “What?”

Cheer: “I’m just baffled. But, I’m not going to make any attempt to change your mind here, because I don’t think it’s possible. I think if you had some homosexual friends, your view would change.”

Train Guy: “No, I had a gay friend once.”

Cheer: “Really?”

Train Guy: “But, I can’t be friends with gay men anymore, because I don’t want them to try to have sex with me.”

Cheer: “Why do you think they would try to have sex with you?”

Train Guy: “Well, my gay friend touched my hand once. Then I knew he just wanted to put in my butt, and now I think that all gay men are trying to fuck me.”

Cheer: “My head hurts.”

MONEY

Train Guy: “I can’t date women with money.”

Cheer: “Why not?”

Train Guy: “Because rich women just want to control you.”

Cheer: “How have you arrived at this generalization?”

Train Guy: “Well, once I dated the daughter of a politician, and she had money, and she wanted to control me.”

Cheer: “Well, that definitely proves that all women with money want nothing more than to control you.”

Train Guy: “I know, right?”

During their conversation, Cheer asks lots of questions. The answer to one question leading to the asking of a new one, and on and on the way a conversation flows. But this is a different kind of conversation. Cheer realizes, not too far into it, that this is a one-sided conversation. One-sided, meaning all the talking is about only one of the two people involved. One asking all the questions, the other doing all the talking… about himself. Cheer is very familiar with this conversation format, because she has a striking ability to be attracted to extreme narcissists.

After realizing this is the type of conversation she’s in, Cheer decides to take note of how long it takes Train Guy to ask her anything in return. For two hours, Train Guy never produces a single question for Cheer. Cheer proffers a few facts about herself in response to some of the things Train Guy says, but he never once attempts to turn the conversation to learn about Cheer.

After two hours, there is a natural break in the conversation. At this pause, Train Guy says to Cheer: “I like you.”

Cheer’s response to this is slightly harsh, because at this point, she feels it is a silly statement for him to make, when he hasn’t made any effort to find out who Cheer is and find out if he likes her brain. To Cheer, he’s just saying he likes her looks, which after two hours of picking his brain, is insulting.

Cheer: “How do you know that? You don’t know a thing about me.”

Train Guy suddenly realizes he fucked up and responds by saying: “Well, tell me about yourself.”

Feeling a bit odd about the preface to this command, Cheer takes a breath and speaks about the classic things that people mention in such a scenario. She includes oddities about herself which typically garner an influx of questions and commentary, such as her upbringing in a hippie community in the Midwest, and the names of her siblings, but all of these facts go uninterrupted. Cheer speaks for a good minute and a half without stopping, strangely summing up her life by noting major events. All the while, Train Guy sits and nods, and occasionally produces noises like “mmm-hmm.” Cheer wraps up her mini bio and sits waiting for some kind of verbal response from Train Guy. Anything that might prompt her to speak more, or continue into any kind of conversation. Such a verbal response never comes.

Soon after Cheer’s forced, awkward life history, Cheer and Train Guy leave the restaurant, due to Cheer pretending she needs her beauty sleep for work in the morning. As they walk, Train Guy continues to mention how much he likes Cheer and how he still can’t believe he jumped off the train to meet her. Cheer thought it was cute the first 5 times he mentioned his train-exiting gall, but now, the charm has long gone. As he yammers on about how great she is, pushing her pedestal higher and higher, she thinks to herself: “What the fuck is wrong with this guy?”

She feels the need to start shouting things at him in order to stomp down her pedestal.

“I’m an atheist!”
“I had two beers before coming to meet you!”
“I want to have shit loads of money! Rich. Rich. Rich.”

She resists the urge to shout such things, mostly because it would probably evoke further conversation, (about Train Guy), instead of allowing her to escape and drink more beer in her apartment.

Train Guy leaves the date with a hug from Cheer, feeling as though he is one step closer to sleeping with her. Cheer leaves the date 100% sure she will never sleep with Train Guy.

After four days and three unanswered text messages, Cheer decides she really has to break things off with Train Guy. She decides she needs to man-up with her rejection, as opposed to her usual brush-him-off-nicely-until-he-finally-gets-the-hint-and-gives-up technique, due to her extreme aversion to confrontation. This time, she decides, she will be honest and straightforward, and she will get it over with sooner.

Before Cheer actually gets around to replying to Train Guy with her rejection speech, she receives another text late at night.

TRAIN GUY: Tomorrow is my birthday.

Cheer decides she cannot reject the guy on his birthday, and continues to be MIA. The day after Train Guy’s birthday, he texts Cheer again.

TRAIN GUY: I hope you are doing. Well ? But now if you don’t want to talk is ok? [sic]

Cheer finally responds with a lengthy text.

CHEER: Hi. Sorry I haven’t been responding. I need to be honest with you. I’m sorry if this is too blunt or harsh, but I don’t want to lead you on. I’m not interesting in dating you and I don’t think we should see each other anymore. You’re very sweet, and I’m sorry.

After sending the message, Cheer feels relieved. She is proud that she finally confronted a rejection instead following her usual routine. Soon after she sends it, she receives a response.

TRAIN GUY: Ok but I tike you? [sic]

Cheer finally went for the direct approach to a rejection, and he doesn’t get it. She laughs, and responds.

CHEER: Yes, I know. That’s the problem. I’m not into you the same way. I’m sorry, but it’s not going to work out.

TRAIN GUY: So way me? [sic]

Cheer tries to decipher this message. She concludes that he must have intended to ask “So why me?” but Cheer still can’t make sense of why he would say that, and throws her hands up. She decides to take a shower and deal with the text later.

Cheer gets out of the shower and looks at her phone. Train Guy has texted her again without her ever responding the his last text.

TRAIN GUY: So send me your picture ple [sic]

This text is followed by a photo of Train Guy.

At this point, Cheer freaks out a bit. She’s truly convinced she’s acquired a stalker and starts to worry. Her thoughts run away with her and she’s sure she’ll have to change her number and get a restraining order. She decides she can no longer be nice to someone who just doesn’t get it. Fearing for her well being, she texts him back.

CHEER: Please don’t text or call me ever again.

Train Guy honors Cheer’s request and she doesn’t hear from him again.

Dating

Impressive

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Preface

If you’ve read other entries on this site, particularly the restaurant entries, you are familiar with my writing style of putting thoughts into dialogue, and/or exaggerating actual dialogue. This story, however, is not an example of that style. I felt this needed to be mentioned because it may appear to be unrealistic dialogue, but, I assure you, below is a fairly accurate, unexaggerated retelling of the words exchanged. And without further ado…

Cheer goes to a DJ/dance event at a bar in Brooklyn. Come 4am, no more alcohol can be served, the music stops, the lights go up, and the night is coming to a close. Cheer stands at the bar sipping water, waiting for a friend, when a man appears out of nowhere.

Man: “Well, hello there.”

Cheer: “Hi.”

Man: “What’s your name?”

Cheer: “Cheer.”

Man: “Wow. Really? Cheer? That’s really great.”

Cheer: “Thanks. What’s your name?”

Man: “Jake.”

Cheer: “Nice to meet you, Jake.”

Jake: “Cheer…wow. Aren’t you something.”

Cheer: “Haha. Thanks. Tell me something, Jake…”

Jake: “What?”

Cheer: “Where’d you come from? This event is just ending and I’m pretty certain you weren’t here earlier.”

Jake: “I came to meet my friend over there.”

Cheer: “Ah. I see.”

Jake looks Cheer up and down and bites his lower lip.

Jake: “Man…Wow…You’re really cute.”

Cheer: “Why thank you.”

Jake pointing to Cheer’s chest: “What’s this?”

Cheer: “Uhhh. That’s the string thing holding my shirt together.”

Jake: “That’s my string.”

Cheer: “Uh, no, pretty sure it’s mine.”

Jake: “OK. It’s our string.

Cheer gives Jake a ‘really?’ look.

Cheer: “Uhhh, no.”

Jake: “I’d like to pull that string.”

Cheer: “I bet you would.”

Jake: “What are you doing? Where you going now?”

Cheer: “Well, I’m going to get on a train, and it’s going to take me home.”

Jake: “I don’t think you should do that.”

Cheer: “Oh?”

Jake: “I think you should come back to my place. I live really close.”

Cheer: “Un-huh.”

Jake: “I have a big screen TV.”

Cheer: “Haha. Good for you.”

Jake: “And I can bench 225.”

Jake gives Cheer a quick eye brow raise and a now-you-want-me look.

Cheer: “I’m more impressed by the TV.”

Jake speaks slowly and quietly, while turning his chin down and his eyes up, as to appear sexy.

Jake: “Come on. I want you to come over and watch Star Wars on my big screen TV.”

Cheer: “Haha. Star Wars, huh?”

Jake moves closer to Cheer and speaks quietly into her ear.

Jake: “Yeah, and I want to make you breakfast. You like bacon and eggs?”

Cheer: “You want me to come to your place to watch Star Wars, and you want to make me breakfast.”

Jake: “Yeah. I could also make you a Mexican breakfast. Would you like that better?”

Cheer: “Haha.”

Cheer is pretty sure Jake thinks she is laughing with him, instead of at him.

Jake: “C’mon. I’m a tall Mexican. You know you want a tall Mexican.”

Cheer: “Haha. Oh, really?”

Jake: “Yeah, I’m 6’3”. You love it. You just want a big, tall, dark-haired Mexican.”

Jake stands closer to Cheer and attempts to wrap his hand around her waist. She slyly swivels away from him.

Cheer: “I’m pretty sure you’re not 6’3”, and you may be ethnically Mexican, but I’m pretty sure you were born in the US.”

Jake leans into Cheer.

Jake: “Well, OK, yes, but I’m still a tall Mexican…who wants to lick you all over.”

Cheer: “Haha. Wow. Tempting.”

Cheer takes a step back.

Jake looks at Cheer all dreamy-eyed.

Jake: “Wow. You’re…wow. Hey, don’t you go anywhere. I’ll be right back. I’m going to the bathroom.”

Cheer: “Right.”

Moments later the staff asks everyone to exit the bar, and Cheer gets her things and goes outside.

 

In front of the bar, Cheer and her friends discuss subways versus taxis and who’s going where. It’s raining, so everyone is neatly lined up against the building under a small overhang.

Jake comes outside with his friend.

Jake: “Hey. This is my roommate and friend, Dylan.”

Cheer: “Hi, Dylan.”

Dylan: “So, are you coming with us?”

Cheer: “Heh. Wow. Uhh, no. Sorry.”

Jake: “Oh, c’mon.”

Jake leans into Cheer again.

Jake: “Come over and watch Star Wars with this tall Mexican who wants you…badly.”

Cheer: “You know, you drive a hard bargain. But, as tempting as Star Wars on a big screen TV, breakfast, and a tall Mexican, who can supposedly bench 225, who I met 10 minutes ago, sounds, I’m not going home with you. Sorry.”

Jake sighs but does not leave.

A taxi has been called and the group waits.

Again Jake speaks slowly in his attempt at a sexy voice.

Jake: “How about muffins? We could have muffins for breakfast.”

Cheer: “Well I wasn’t convinced before, but now that muffins are involved…”

Jake: “Oh. Man…you’re just so…”

Cheer: “Not happening.”

The taxi arrives, and Cheer and four others head toward it. As she walks away, Cheer waves to Jake and says ‘Nice to meet you.’ Jake waves, and, like other outstanding members of society who have blatantly propositioned Cheer in the past, Jake does not ask for Cheer’s number. Cheer is not surprised.