Here are the characters in this story: you and the boy you’re crushing on.
There are other, more minor characters. Your middle school teacher might make an appearance, as may your best friend. The order of this story may even vary from place to place.
Did you think dating would get better when you reached adulthood? Are you crushed it didn’t? Yeah, same here.
It’s official: dating in New York City as a millennial is just about as absurd as dating during any other point in your life.
Want to find out why? Read on and you'll understand the bottom line:
Dating in NYC is more absurd than dating in elementary school, even more absurd than dating in middle school, and much, much more absurd than dating any other time else in your life.
1. The crush
Elementary school: Stare at him from across the cafeteria. Write a song about him.
Sing it to all your friends on the playground at an octave that, let’s face it, he’ll probably hear. Swing on the swings with him and smile a lot.
When he tells you to stop staring at him in the cafeteria, you'll only feel a wee bit devastated.
Middle school: Bang on your locker with your drum sticks really loudly when he’s around so he’ll notice you.
A tactical maneuver: befriend his friends, and talk to them all the time. Never look at him during these conversations.
High school: Make sure you have a prom date that’s not him, so he knows you’re cool and desirable enough to have a prom date.
When he asks you to the prom, say “Sorry I’m already going with Scott.”
New York City: Stare at your cell phone a lot. Re-read your old text messages that mostly consist of 3 a.m. texts reading: What’s up? Wanna come over? Yeah!
Avoid texting him at all costs, avoid texting him at all costs, avoid texting him at all costs-- whoops!! You texted him. Oh well.
There are definitely worse things, right? Put your phone down and forget about him. That won’t be so hard, will it?
Just spend an entire afternoon looking at all of his Facebook photos since 2005.That’ll make you feel better about the fact that it’s been four minutes and he hasn’t answered your “what’s up?” text.
Elementary school: Color on his sneakers with a green crayon during reading time. Why did you do this? You have no idea.
He looks up at you horrified. Ask him if he’s planning to tell on you. He says, no, I would never tell on a friend like you. And then you wonder why he’s being so weird and why he won’t just tell on you.
Middle school: Put him on the list of your AIM best friends even though you've only messaged three times and waved at each other in the hallway twice.
High school: Dance with him at homecoming and say nothing about the confusing boner pressing against your leg.
Does he want to kiss you while the DJ plays Hero by Enrique Iglesias?
Probably, but you'd never know since he spends the whole song staring at his shoes.
New York City: You’re wasted at a random party. You’re actually super cross-faded, you’ve been drinking since 3 p.m. and you’ve even smoked. And you never smoke.
You’re standing relatively close to him and you watch him spill a beer on his shirt. As if from outside your body, you watch yourself pour a splash of beer on his head.
Why did you do this? You have no idea, but he looks up at you horrified. There’s really no getting yourself out of this one.
3. The confession
Elementary school: "Will you be my boyfriend?"
Middle school: *leaves an anonymous Valentine in his locker*
You never own up to it, even when he brings the card from locker to locker demanding to know who wrote it.
High school: "Are you going to Ashley’s party on Friday? Oh? You are? Yeah... me too. Well... I guess I'll see you there."
Neither person acknowledges each other at party until the other one is leaving, and then share an extremely sloppy make out.
New York City: "So, we’ve had sober sex like thirteen times now. Are you having sex with anyone else?"