The first part of this series turned out to be surprisingly popular and because the list of things tourists do to infuriate New Yorkers is endless I figured why not write a follow up.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk

In big cities like New York where most people don’t own cars and navigate the city on foot the sidewalk is our equivalent of a highway, which means if you want to stop to check your map or take a photo you need to pull over. If you suddenly stop there’s a chance you’ll get something spilled all over you by a now irate New Yorker.

Imagine if you suddenly slammed on the breaks while driving in the fast lane of the highway. Well guess what, that’s the same as stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, just with a little less head trauma and a lot less death.

One of the things you quickly learn to do in New York is multitask whilst walking, for example most can respond to a BBM without looking at their phone, or for some seasoned professionals even taking it out of their pocket.

Know your bearing

Nothing shouts newbie like someone who steps out of the subway into the sunlight and stands around trying to figure out which way is north. Every New Yorker knows which way north is at all times, even if they’re underground.

Going downtown on the 6 train? Well that means you’re heading south. If you were to get off the train at 33rd street then you’d be facing west, and when you go up the stairs you’re facing north. Simple!

New Yorkers do this subconsciously at all times, no matter where they are.

I <3 New York T-Shirts

I don’t know anyone, especially anyone female, who’d be caught dead wearing one of these. We know you love New York, it’s why you moved here. In fact everyone loves New York… with the exception of Los Angelians who love spending their lives in their cars using drive through ATMs.

Umbrella Etiquette

Maybe it’s just me but there’s definitely a difference in the way people use their umbrellas in touristy parts of the city. Walking down Canal Street or trying to navigate Times Square in the rain always a challenge, maybe people aren’t used to the rain or they think they need to buy an extra large umbrella for the ferocious New York rain they read so much about, who knows.

I’d chalk it up to standard human behavior, but walking up 6th Ave on a rainy Monday morning is so different. People with compact umbrellas, weaving in and out of each others way like ballerinas. It’s almost… poetic.

As a New Yorker you’re going to have a symbiotic relationship with your umbrella because you’re going to be spending a depressing amount of time under one. It’s going to become an extension of your arm, your shield and occasional weapon.

Have you just moved to New York? What habits have you picked up since moving here?

I have an update for you about “Bad” from Dating and Communication Part II: The Double Edged Sword.

When he was Facebook messaging our mutual friend to ask her to hook a brother up, she suggested that if he really wants to give it one more chance with me, he should send me an email along the lines of “Hey d, I think you’re a really cool girl and we have a lot in common. We might have gotten off to the wrong start, but I’m interested in you and I hope we can meet.” Which would have been a sane and reasonable next step.

Does he take my friend’s sage advice? Or does he send me another instant message on [dating site] and spell my name WRONG.

You guessed it.

Wow. I was in shock. So, as I explained before, he knows my gmail address. He could have emailed me. He could have gchatted me, a much more acceptable form of instant message. Yet he chooses to instant message me on a DATING WEBSITE (which I don’t even see until I get an email after the fact, by the way). And to throw fuel to the fire, he misspells my name?!

We were Facebook friends, until he defriended me. We were gchat friends. We still are LinkedIn friends. My name is all over these places, and he couldn’t spell it correctly in a message to me?

Even worse, the message was disgustingly cheesy and cringe-inducing. It even rhymed.

“Hey de, what’s it gonna be?”

No joke. I immediately sent this to our mutual friend and she was in shock. She called me the next day, profusely apologizing again for not knowing he was crazy. Although she did suggest that the misspell might have been intentional, to be cutesy and match the word “be,” but I am more inclined to think he really spelled it wrong and had no idea. And that offends me.

It would have been one thing if I never heard from him again — after all, he did defriend me on Facebook. But I did hear from him again, and it wasn’t to take our friend’s good advice. No, it was to behave in the exact same way that made me scared of him in the first place!

Like I said, some people just don’t get it.

Have you ever dated someone who was clueless or just didn’t get it?

You’ve just moved to New York! Congratulations! Don’t get too excited though because as far as the locals are concerned you’re still a tourist.

Lucky for you it’s possible to fake-it-til-you-make-it in New York, everyone’s doing it already, so why shouldn’t you? Here’s a few things you can do to speed up the process of playing the part of a dyed in the wool local.

Your cell phone is your best friend

No New Yorker leaves their apartment without a cell phone, nor do they sit anywhere without putting it on the table or nearest flat surface. The only exception is when they’re on a date when it’s in their pocket/purse on vibrate.

Just remember when you go home to visit family that this is generally considered to be bad manners when in polite company, something New Yorkers are ambivalent of when it comes to their cellular best friend.

Is that a map in your pocket?

If you carry a street or subway map with you then you’re a tourist, no exceptions. I can picture you now standing on a street corner aimlessly spinning around trying to work out which way is north. It’s very simple, you either know where you’re going, know how to command a cab where to go or have a map application on your phone (the only acceptable kind of map).

If you must carry a map with you then discretely hide it somewhere on your person (handbag/backpack/under a hat) and if you must consult it for your current whereabouts then do so from the privacy of an enclosed public space, such as a Starbucks bathroom of shame.

Houston Street

This one is a trap. It’s not pronounced like the city in Texas, but like the combination of house and ton. Houston. Practice it a few times and internalize it. Get it wrong and expect ridicule.

Looking up

Holy crap! A tall building! New Yorkers don’t care, we’ve seen a lot of them and we’re more concerned at looking down at the street so we don’t trip on that new pot hole which mysteriously appeared overnight. Some attest the appalling condition of the roads to snow plows, but I’m convinced there’s someone walking around the city digging new ones just to screw with the tourists.

Waving at a cab with the off duty light on

This one is a bit puzzling. Why have lights telling me you’re off duty? I don’t care. All I care about is whether or not I can sit in your car. Light on, game on. Light off, you’re out of luck. Either way, if you’ve lived here long enough you know the difference so don’t wave-like-you’re-drowning at a cab which isn’t going to pick you up. Nor do you try to get in one that’s at a stop light.

If you’ve had a few drinks though it’s acceptable to get in any car at a stop light. Cab or not.

Not understanding the importance of storage

If you go to someone’s apartment and they start showing you where they store all their stuff, “Look, we can store skis in the banisters of the stairs!” then you need to make a big deal about it. When you’re living in 250sq/ft then every inch counts, you’d know this if you weren’t still living in a hotel trying to find an apartment for under $1,200 in the city.

The same applies to washer dryers, so when you’re viewing your new apartment if it just so happens to include one in the unit make sure you go suitably ape-shit over it. Ignore the fact that you have a massive balcony, ceiling fans or a robotic live in maid and just jump up and down pointing at what the rest of the world considers a mundane clothes cleaning device.

What are your signs that someone is obviously a tourist and needs to get the hell out of your way?

Ever have a boyfriend?

For the night.

As enjoyable as it is to snuggle up in bed/futon/couch with your honey watching romantic comedies, this isn’t that kind of boyfriend.  I’m talking about the one-night-boyfriend.

Yes, it’s different than the one night stand. Sure, relationships of all types pop up all year round, but there’s undeniably something about summer (perhaps the hot weather putting us all in heat?) that makes the not-so-serious-one-night-relationship more prevalent than ever. And with the renewed party scene, all kinds of new “friendships” are being made among single frisky New Yorkers. Especially among those that flock to the Hamptons. Heck, it’s nice! I mean, why can’t we all indulge in a fun, no drama, low key “relationship” now and then? Or for the night? Especially until we find something or someone (maybe at Talkhouse?) that’s worth investing our time in.

Here’s the thing. There are lots of “rules” when it comes to dating – don’t date your friends ex, try not to sleep with him on the first date, only date guys that are above 6ft tall (oh, just me?). Anyway, for some reason, the rules seem to change during the summer. The rules REALLY change during the summer in the Hamptons.

Now, this “boyfriend for the night” phenomenon is an interesting one. Here’s what usually occurs. You head out for the night with a large group of friends. The booze starts flowing. You meet someone cute. Someone single. You start dancing. Maybe he twirls you a few times.  For the majority of the  night, you don’t leave each other’s sides. You make-out in public. You hold hands. You act all, well, couple-y. It might stop at that, or it might progress into a slumbie…. which usually entails a very romantic cuddle session spent on a blow up air mattress… with three of your friends sleeping on the surrounding beds in the same room. (Ahh, so college!) Either way, when morning comes, the “relationship” ends. And here’s the thing. Next Friday, you’ll have a new “boyfriend”.

Good plan? I know you’re all down with that. Because here’s the great thing about the one-night-boyfriend! You have a guaranteed dancing partner/twirler for the whole night. You have someone to keep you warm on the air mattress when all the blankets are being used in your sharehouse. And, best of all, there’s absolutely no commitment. Except for maybe calling them a cab in the morning. We all know it’s difficult to find someone great, someone you connect with, someone who is worth calling boyfriend. But, until that time comes, this type of ”boyfriend” is actually pretty easy to find, with a little coconut-scented elbow grease.  If you’re willing to get chatty and get a little bit uninhibited, this ride has seats for you.

So, buckle up! Take a trip to hot-summer-one-night-boyfriend town. Population: you and someone… you don’t even know yet.

Have you ever had a boyfriend–for-the-night? Have your friends? Please, share your stories and thoughts!

Ladies of New York City, I’m talking to you…so listen up.

A couple of weekends ago, I went to brunch with one of my oldest and best guy friends. He’s my best friend from when we were young. Like we go wayyyy baaaack. Anyway, he’s the heterosexual, interested-in-ladies type. And, I should mention, our friendship is COMPLETELY platonic. No accidental drunken make-outs or getting to second base in our puberty days. We’re just friends. For real. Now, at first glance, my buddy comes off as incredibly witty, attractive, understanding and kind. Which he is…to ME. BUT, to other girls, he can in fact be a player. For the most part, when it comes to his social agenda, he has only one agenda. He looks out for numero uno (and some good ‘ol fun) in any and all situations.

Here’s the thing though. He’s legit up front about the fact that he can be kind of a jerk. He’s fully aware of the way that he treats other girls. He doesn’t try to hide it. He’s open about the fact that he’s usually just looking for a good time. And as a platonic friend, well, he’s actually the best friend a girl could ask for. Being friends with him is truly a constant eye opening experience. Since we are close friends, its not like he has anything to hide from me about his hookups, thoughts on girls, and on how guys should approach dating.  Even when I ask nicely, he won’t sugarcoat it, he doesn’t beat around the bush, and he won’t lie to me. As the saying goes – like a nice, kosher hot dog, he is 100% real beef, 100% of the time.

He gives me concise – and brutally honest – advice.

At times, I just need to complain to someone. Heck, we all do! But other times, I just want to hang out and not be badgered with questions. I need to hang out with someone who won’t encourage my (always incredibly unhelpful and unproductive) obsessing and over analyzing.  In other words, he gets the job done. And he get’s it done well. He gives me the straight up, no chaser, no bullshit, kind of feedback that I (always and constantly) need.

In fact, on our recent brunch date, he offered me some much needed dating advice. Despite my splitting headache, I took a large sip of my bloody mary and braced myself.

It doesn’t matter how much he’s contacting you. It doesn’t matter if he’s reaching out every freakin day. If he’s not making plans to see you… he’s probably juggling many other girls simultaneously and keeping you in the rotation.

Well, I will tell you one thing! He sure is a clear and direct communicator. Thanks, babe.

He’s always incredibly entertaining.

Every time we talk, he has a new story for me. He has a new girl(s) he’s digging. He has some new, crazy, adventure of a dating mishap or stage five clinger. Nothing surprises me with this guy. In fact, I remember one morning when we were rehashing a night out in the Hampton’s.

I ran into this chick I’ve known for a while. I took her home and we’ve been hanging out a bunch. She’s definitely into it. Anyway, she’s leaving the country for the rest of the summer in a few weeks, so I’ll have an easy out.

Yeah, nice. Typical. Really nice.

I guess, perhaps, I enjoy the inside perspective. If I didn’t have a friend like him I don’t think I would be so informed. I don’t think I’d be so entertained. I don’t think I’d have as much material for my blog posts!!

Here’s my point. Most guys at least TRY to hide their a-hole player side. (For the record, I know not all guys are bad.) I’m a nice person. And I’m looking for a nice guy. And it can be difficult to read between the sweet text messages, the comforting cuddles and the extravagant dinners.

He sets me up with good guys.

As a player himself, he can easily identify and recognize like-minded individuals. Basically, he knows which guys are the “good” ones. That being said, I know what I’m getting when he sets me up with someone. It helps to cut out a lot of the bullsh*t and saves me time. I owe him a lot for that. He can size up any guy that I’m seeing over a quick beer. And he’s not afraid to hurt my feelings and let me know when the dude is a total squid.

So bottom line? It’s incredibly worthwhile to befriend someone who is straight up about the fact that he is sometimes an a-hole and about the fact that some guys you meet will be too. Through being friends with him, most other guys seem better in comparison. And when I, inevitably, meet a douche-bag, I at least can see through him much more quickly and can get advice on how he operates much more effectively. And if or when I can’t, my bff will have my back and let me know.

That being said, just make sure to watch your back as well. And if you happen to meet my friend “so-and-so,” just be careful. And don’t say I didn’t warn you…

Tonight’s the night where you can listen to the nycandlove.com editorial team on the radio!  Please join us at 9 PM EST as we answer questions about love, dating and of course, nycandlove.

There are two ways to listen:

• New York City – tune in at WKCR 89.9 FM
• Outside New York City or not near a radio – listen online:
  http://www.wkcr.org/

Our interview will be broadcast on WKCR-FM, Columbia University’s non-commercial student-run radio station.

This is our first time being interviewed and our first time speaking publicly about nycandlove. We value your input and we hope to improve on our speaking in the future. We’ve got tons of great ideas — including podcasts — so we really welcome your feedback on our radio interview.

We would love it if you could tune in tonight and leave a comment here letting us know what you think!

New York City is too f*cking small sometimes. Lately, I can’t turn around without walking into someone I’ve slept with.

I wasn’t feeling well at work and I wasn’t able to get anything done for a couple of hours. As a result, I stayed later than normal so I could finish everything up. So I leave work and walk to the subway that I take home every day. I’m waiting for the train when I glance behind me, over to the side, and. And.

The Hamburglar.

He was there. In my subway. By my job. Downtown. The Hamburglar, who has taken the subway about five times throughout his many years living in Manhattan. Who lives and (usually) works uptown. At the same subway station as me. At the same time — a time I am not even usually there. Someone tell me — what are the chances?

I just kept thinking: “I’m not even supposed to be here today!”

Although if I looked pretty I probably wouldn’t be so distressed about this. I actually looked hideous. I’m not exaggerating or fishing for compliments.  I am aware that I am fairly attractive. But sometimes, like on this day, I workout in the morning and without showering go right to work. I have another two weeks before my appointment to tame my Jewfro and the weather was muggy. My hair was in a ponytail and I was wearing this headband that looked weird on my freakishly tiny head (and did I mention it was hot pink and purple? I never kid.) and I was wearing my Hunter boots in 82 degrees because Weather.com lied to me at 6 am when I left the house and said there would be guaranteed storms all day long.

Usually, I wear pretty summer dresses! I have an entire closet full of them!

F*CK.

So I wasn’t looking my best, I wasn’t feeling confident at all. I was caught off guard, which stresses me out. I was wearing some makeup, although I decided earlier in the day not to bother with mascara. I just felt . . . not myself.

Add to this the fact that I was coming off an absolutely amazing, perfect weekend with another boy, and I did not have a single thought of the Hamburglar for days. Of COURSE this is the time I would run into him — when he is, for once in my life, the last thing on my mind.

Just the week before, in fact, I ran into Mitchell. You might remember Mitchell from his appearance in I Only Have Eyes for You. And You., as “guy” from “Well, I came right to your apartment from having sex with another guy.”

It wasn’t as much of a shock that I ran into Mitchell, as we work in the same building complex — in fact, he is the reason I have my job there, as he found out about my job opening from a colleague and sent it over to me. We’ve run into each other before, although rarely. I looked hideous that day as well (I ran into him straight from the gym on a day I decided I didn’t need makeup since no one would be seeing me) and after that encounter decided I would always put on some makeup, even if I think I won’t be seeing any people. Then, as well, I was upset that I didn’t feel as confident and attractive as I can be.

It was only thanks to that incident that I was wearing any makeup at all today when I ran into the Hamburglar. We chatted the entire subway ride and I looked into his clear, sky blue eyes and instead of melting, as I usually (used to?) do, I felt only horror. Horror knowing on any other day I might have looked great and would have given anything to run into him. Although, as a person in the medical profession, he has seen images of the insides of my intestines. So I suppose I looked better than that.

I felt agitated and out of sorts for the rest of the night. And although I would not have gone home with him, I couldn’t help but feel slighted when he didn’t even ask me to. Is it because I look awful? I mean, he’s obviously seen me looking my best before, and at the very least looking very good. I even made it a point to go over there on New Years Eve, the day after my breakup from a one year relationship, just to make sure he would see me when I knew I looked gorgeous.

Seriously, what are the odds?! That of all people, all trains, all times, I would run into the one person who’s been hanging over my head for more than three years. Someone I’ve spent countless nights with. Someone I confessed my love to only to be shot down. Someone I continued to see even after that. Someone who NEVER EVEN TAKES THE SUBWAY.

MY subway! The place I go where I never have to think about seeing him. I walk past the Hamburglar’s apartment building multiple times a week — always looking out for him. He lives and works near my apartment. I could see him at any moment in our neighborhood, and I am fully aware of this fact. That I would see him out of this zone, when I am for once NOT looking around for him . . . Well that was just beyond my comprehension.

For all the people there are in New York City, when you’ve been single for as many years here as I have been, the city is just too small to not run into people you’ve banged.

Ever run into an old flame in an unusual place?

You’re bored at work. You’re sitting in front of the computer and you have a first date in the next few days. Should you Google? Heck, it’ll only take a minute. It’s really easy. So you do it. You google your would-be sweetheart. Then comes the hard part. You have to pretend you didn’t.

Here’s the thing. It used to be that blind dates were blind. You wouldn’t know what the person looked like before you met. If you were lucky, the so-called matchmaker would have a polaroid picture.  But you’d have to remind them to bring it next time you got together. And if you actually asked more than once for the photo, they’d probably rescind the initial offer anyway.

These days, things are a bit different. We have to be careful on dates not to accidentally say, “oh we shouldn’t go to the Standard Beer Garden after dinner — you were just there last weekend for Adam’s birthday.” This is because we’ve probably spent numerous hours stalking them on facebook. We spend more time trying to get the password of a friend that’s friends with him on the book then we do actually getting ready for the date itself. And if you’re not on facebook? Well, we may not go out with you anyway because that just seems fishy and sketchy.

Bottom line? The blind date as we (or our parents) knew it is dead. One will never again have to stand at the bar and pray that every 5′2″ guy with adult acne and white-wash jeans isn’t he’s-a-little-odd-but-he-might-be-a-nice-guy Joe.

It’s just a given. The amount of information available to us is insane. Heck, even if you have a common last name like Cohen, a few google searches and we can usually find the RIGHT Cohen. That being said, just because it’s out there, to what extent should we actually indulge? Well, there really are solid arguments on the “how much stalking can you do until it’s creepy” debate. On one hand, the less “blind” the date, the more your expectations will ruin it. You risk building it up in your mind and it falling short of what you’re expecting. On the other hand, many of us would rather know the person is a weirdo or is balding before we get our hopes up too much.

To be completely honest, I’ve been involved in both approaches. Prior to some “blind” dates, I’ve gone all Richard Ramirez on his ass and consequently probably have the FBI on my tail. Here’s the problem with that though. Sometimes, we spot something on the Web about our date that makes us cringe. When that happens, we can either wait it out for an explanation or cancel.  But sometimes, it’s Bachelor No. 2, please. Yeah, you know you’ve been in that dilemma before. Other times. I’ve purposefully avoided all (ok, fine, most) stalking opportunities in an effort to keep an open mind.

Here’s the thing. I often wonder if perhaps we’re missing out. Because maybe there’s supposed to be some right-of-passage about the experience of going on a blind date. Maybe we’re meant to grow from those experiences and become more knowledgeable about what we’re looking for. But then again, no one really wants to go through that anxiety and stress. And at the end of the day, it’s your choice. You get to decide just how blind you want it to be.

My recommendation? Stalk with a bit of caution. And just make sure not to mention that your best friend goes to Yale with his younger sister before he discloses that information to you on his own.

If you read On Dating and Communication, then you know how I feel about technology’s role in dating. What I didn’t really get into is that having all these modes of communication available to us can be a double edged sword. Because sometimes, communication can be creepy – specifically when it is conducted over multiple avenues at the same time.

Some examples from my life as of recent (note – Good and Bad are NOT the same person):

–

Good: BBM

Bad: Simultaneously calling and sending a Gchat saying “Pick up.”

*Bad Bonus – I don’t remember ever giving him my phone number

–

Good: IMing with me using a made up language I invented with my brother

Bad: After ignoring his (1) phone call and (2) instant messages (which were sent through [dating site] – which is NOT even how we know each other – when we are already Gchat friends), TEXTING me to say “Hey where’d you go?”

–

Good: “Liking” my updates and photos on Facebook

Bad: Literally two seconds after I post pictures of me running a race on Facebook, rather than comment/Like there or Gchat (which would have been acceptable since he was obviously at his computer), he TEXTS me and says “Didn’t know you were a runner … very cool”

*Bad Bonus – My dating profile on the site we did not meet on but where he instant messaged me says I am a runner, as does my Facebook page/photos where we were also friends. You say you love social media? You want to date me? Do your f*cking research.

–

Good: dfilm.com

Bad: Facebook messaging our mutual friend (the real way we know each other) and asking, “What’s the deal with your friend d? She seems kinda flaky. ”

More Bad: Facebook messaging same mutual friend two minutes after that, saying “I just defriended her on Facebook. Can you ask her what’s up? She’s cute, she’s into social media and she’s a runner. Hook a brother up.”

Most Bad: A Jewish guy saying “hook a brother up.”

–

Um, what did he want my friend to do? Send me a note:

Do you like my friend? Check one: yes__ no__ ambivalent__?

Not only that, but he humiliated my friend. She did a really nice thing for telling me about him and vouching that he is a great guy. She had no idea he was like this. She hopes I don’t judge her for being so wrong about him. And I don’t – there is no way she could have known that he just doesn’t get it.

Either you get it or you don’t. Having an interest in social media and communication does not necessarily mean you have a knack for it. Those who get it have an innate understanding on how to do it right. And hey, I’m all for using multiple communication methods – just not all at once. Especially not when I am ignoring one or more.

Why not message ME first instead of my friend? What grade are we in now? If he really wanted to know what was up, he could act like a grown up and ask me. I might not answer your phone call, but I’d be more inclined to gently tell you I am not interested over email. Also? If he didn’t creep me out, maybe I would have given him a chance. I can’t say for sure, but what I can say is that being bombarded by all modes of communication at the same time really freaked me out and told me this was not a guy I ever wanted to know.

A hilarious blogger lives by the following motto and it is one we can all stand to benefit from:

Don’t be ridiculous.

This guy called me while Gchatting me to tell me to pick up his phone call. He saw my Facebook pics the very moment I posted them and instead of commenting/Liking via Facebook or Gchatting, he texted me! I felt suffocated by this relationship before I even met him! He was, to put it simply, ridiculous.

You made your own bed. Now have fun lying in it – alone.

Ever been overwhelmed by too much communication? We want to hear your stories!

Monday, June 7 is an exciting night for us here at nycandlove blog.

Please join us at 9 PM EST as we answer questions about love, dating and nycandlove on the radio!

There are two ways to listen:

• New York City – tune in at WKCR 89.9 FM
• Outside New York City or not near a radio – listen online:
  http://www.wkcr.org/

Our interview will be broadcast on WKCR-FM, Columbia University’s non-commercial student-run radio station.

The radio station does not currently keep recordings of their shows for playback, but we will try to make it available for you here. We really hope you will tune in!