Class Warfare

I have a date tonight with Massachusetts and it’s making me angry.

I don’t want to go.

I’m afraid I’ll be mean.

Everything started off fine. Massachusetts reached out to my Connecticut profile and I was seduced by the location.

This is my ten state marker.

20 percent of the United States – dated.

It might seem like slow progress to you, but until I have someone else driving the bus, this is how its going to be.

Progress is being made, and though Massachusetts was a little older than I would normally date, it never hurts to have a drink.

He seemed like a nice guy. He likes sock puppets. I’m a sucker for a guy who likes sock puppets.

But, after a few emails, everything fell to shit.

First, were the six pictures he sent me of his children, his dock and boat, and of Fenway park from his box season seats just above the dugout.

It was on my birthday that he sent me these pictures, and all I could do was look at my broken down, beat-up, sagging sofa and wonder what year it was that I took that wrong turn.


Next came the list of questions.

They made me mad.

1. Please tell me about your family in no more than three sentences.

2. Please describe where you grew up.

3. What are your three favorite restaurants in the world?

4. Three favorite hotels?

5. MFA or MoMA? MoMA or the Tate?

6. Gold or silver?

7. Cartier or Tiffany?

8. Jack Rogers or Jimmy Choo?

I read the list to Gabby when we were at work, her face contorted into a combination of confusion and disbelief. “Is he for real?”

“I guess.” I answered, inexplicably angered by these questions. “I looked him up on google.”


But, it’s Massachusetts. And nearly the end of the summer. And possibly close to the end of my stint of unemployment. To bag a Boston date is a great addition to my research. And so, I persevered…

… through the description on his new car, promises of a great romance, mentions of Nantucket, an invitation to Martha’s Vineyard…

“Who says that kind of shit?” I asked Susan over drinks. “I told him I thought Cartier and TIffany’s were tacky.”

Her eyes narrow. “You’re going to marry this guy.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because he’s never met anyone like you.”

We order another round.


One afternoon, he asks me what I do. I tell him briefly about the project I’m developing on the amazing trans-media platform by Moveable Feast Media (insert product plug here: check out the free Moveable Feast app on your iphone/ ipad/ ipod).

“I’m currently producing a low-budget trans-media project for children and their parents based on a children’s story,” I tell him. “It’s a locative story, and our first test location is in New York City.” I tell him this project is designed to raise money for a children’s charity.

It turns out that he and his family are big supporters of charities, though, they mostly write checks. He asks who is funding my project.

“Mastercard and New York State unemployment insurance” is what I want to say, “and, by the way, I’m part of the downwardly spiraling middle class and live with a sagging fifteen year old bargain-basement sofa I can’t afford to replace.” But, I let it slide.

Then he tells me he wishes I’d go to Costa Rica with him and his daughter for her sixteenth birthday. He’s taking her there for surf camp.

“Why don’t we meet first and maybe have a drink before you start throwing out these offers,” I chastise. “I am certain that I’m not half the person you thing I am. Clearly, we are working from very different economic models.”

“You don’t even need to go on a date with this guy,” Michele says. I’ve been spewing about my downwardly mobile frustrations over the phone for the better part of an hour.

“How do you mean?”

“Sounds like the story’s already written.”


So, now I’m putting on my armor and shaving my legs.

I’m wearing a dress I bought at Goodwill, and boots that need to be re-soled. My face is blotchy from a face cream that’s supposed to remove spots and seems to be doing so by making them bigger.

Under-arm deodorant, check. Lipstick, check. Metrocard, check.

Lock the door, walk down the steps, sit next to a woman having a conversation with herself on the subway and man clipping his fingernails, check.

I’m going to the East side.

This is the stuff the French Revolution was made of.

I hope I’m not mean.



When I read in the news of humans betraying our greatest and most beautiful gift, humanity, I wonder what would happen if these turncoats were to look at themselves in a mirror and see what they’ve become. What a gift it would be to lay eyes on a true reflection. What an opportunity to grow and change and become a better person.

That said, nothing takes the wind out one’s own sails of righteousness more than wanting to hate someone who turns out to be a really nice guy.

1 thought on “Class Warfare

  1. Here is a little intel for your future clandestine datescapades from and his analysis of the Pew Research Center’s report, “Marriage and Divorce: A 50-State Tour,” which examines data from the American Community Survey on marriage, divorce and singlehood.


    The Midwest is more like a desert for single women… With the highest share of currently married men, the five states where single women will struggle the most to find a date are: Idaho, Iowa, Kansas, Utah and Nebraska. “These are states where people tend to grow up, stay around and settle down,” says Cohn. On one hand, it’s refreshing to see “sticky states” that maintain their hometown boys and girls. But on the other hand, without the influx of new singles into the mix, dating opportunities for women living in these states are pretty limited.

    …But thankfully, there are states where it’s raining single men! On the other end of the spectrum, these five states are loaded with single men: New York, New Mexico, Rhode Island, Alaska and the District of Columbia. They’re literally all over the map, too, but at least you have diverse choices. You could meet more educated, cosmopolitan men in the Northeast states (New York, D.C. and Rhode Island), or land a rugged type up north where the nights are long and there are fewer romantic distractions than you’d find in urban areas (Alaska). Somewhere in between these two extremes, you could also try the southwest (NM), where, hopefully, the men are as hot as the food.

    If all your exes live in Texas, then maybe singles should avoid the Lone Star State. Cohn wonders if singer George Strait was onto something when he sang, “All my exes live in Texas.” The numbers show that Texas is indeed home to more adults that have been married multiple times (i.e., three marriages or more) than any other state, which doesn’t exactly put out the welcome mat to singles looking for one love that’ll last a lifetime. Something must be in the air down there, since the neighboring states of Arkansas and Oklahoma also “boast” (if that’s the word) high numbers of people who’ve been married and divorced multiple times. Worse, these multiple marriages correlate with having a low income, creating a double whammy!

    Is Carolina on your mind? If you’re a single woman in search of an unattached man, then North Carolina should be on your mind and your radar. The state’s higher-than-average population of single men isn’t the state’s only attractive attribute. A relatively affordable cost of living and laid-back lifestyle regularly lands this state on annual lists of best places to live. What’s the drawback? Well, with city names like Morehead City, Poor Town and Horneytown, picking a city to live in might feel awkward. (Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up!) So, stick to more mainstream towns — like Raleigh, Durham and Asheville — and you’ll be fine……………

    James Taylor said it best

    There ain’t no doubt in no one’s mind
    that love’s the finest thing around.
    Whisper something soft and kind.
    Hey, babe, the sky’s on fire, I’m dying – ain’t I?
    I’m gone to Carolina in my mind.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s