Long Legs and other Personal Problems, Miscellaneous

Date Night

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It’s TUESDAY!! And that means Date Night. Date Night is something that is sacrosanct in our house. It’s how I have lasted years through CFA studying, and years in a relationship in general with someone who works upwards of 70 hours/week. Every Tuesday, there is a recurring event in my google calendar, (shared with my fiancé), “Chris and Emily Date Night.”

Why Tuesday? To be honest, date night started at the very beginning of our relationship. Girls love to create their own rules to make sure they don’t seem too “available” or “easy.” My self-designated way of doing that? I told him I was only free on Tuesdays! It made me seem unattainable and super busy, it meant no sleepovers (duh I had work the next day), and it was a great way to get through the week. Both of us had busy schedules, I was teaching 3 classes/week at the gym and he was working 90 hours/week at the time. It was important to set aside time to see each other. Slowly, it became a tradition. Nowadays, if I have something else I need to do on a Tuesday, I ask in advance if we can switch date night to another night of the week. I love that it ensures that we see each other or make dedicated time for each other at least once.

When we moved in together, I didn’t think date night would be necessary anymore, but I was wrong. Even if we fall out of the habit for a few weeks because of work travel or other things, we can always feel the distance start to come between us. I guess that’s what living in New York means, everyone is so busy!

I know what you’re thinking… every week??? Don’t you run out of things to do? Isn’t it expensive?? No, and sometimes.

When we first started dating, I used to complain that Chris’s only date ideas were going out to dinner. Not that I don’t like dinner, hello, I LOVE food, but I like doing activities. A long time ago, I sent him a list of possible ideas. Now, I have a running list of date ideas in my Bullet Journal. Some still involve dinner, but at cool spots, like a Liberian restaurant, or a Japanese place that has a prix fixe menu set to old-school vinyl. And some involve actual activities like mini golf, bowling, pottery, and holiday markets.

  • DANGEROUS Date Night, ax-throwing in Brooklyn.
  • Yummy Date Night, make your own ice cream.
  • Fancy Date Night, out to a Broadway show.
  • Casual Date Night, out for a margarita.

Some of them are relatively cheap or free, like walking around a new neighborhood, and some of them are pricier, like seeing a Broadway show. And about half the time, they don’t involve going anywhere at all! One of my favorite date nights involves cooking dinner at home, watching Netflix (we STILL haven’t finished The Wire), and maybe walking across the street for ice cream after. The purpose of date night isn’t to spend money or explore new places (although the latter is a cool perk), it’s to spend time with each other and not get lost in the hustle and bustle of New York. It gives us a designated day of the week where I promise not to teach at the gym or go out with friends, and Chris promises to try and get home from work at a normal hour.

Most recently, we went to Dave & Busters. Taking the subway and the getting out at Times Square, especially amidst the Corona situation, is not usually something I would volunteer to do. The food was sub-par and the table was a little dirty when we got there. But the drinks were half off until 7:30 (helloooo $6 watermelon margarita!) and the quality time together was so much fun! We spent an hour after we ate just playing air hockey, ring toss, skeeball, corn hole, and various other games. I think we got a LOT of tickets, but it’s all virtual on the cards now, so I can’t be sure. We had so many credits left on our play cards, that we decided we’d need to go back another time and cash out on our winnings, then.

  • Air Hockey Champs. By that I mean me. I am the champ (ok, I lost twice).
  • Lots of tickets won on ring toss.
  • Coronarita. DANGER.

I always think of myself as a trendsetter, but Date Night has definitely caught on with some of our friends. I recently found out that two close friends of Chris’s have take the idea themselves, and they designated Wednesdays as date night. Having a weekday date night makes it low pressure (no need for an all-night Saturday marathon date) and it’s also easier to make reservations or get tickets to things. I hope to combine some of my “Date Night Ideas” with my “New York Bucket List” items soon, like going to the Guggenheim or seeing Alvin Ailey. Good thing there are 52 Tuesdays per year!

Do you have any awesome date ideas? Leave them below in the comments!

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Travel

Mystery Weekend in Hudson, New York

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I love surprises. I don’t understand people who don’t. Why would anyone not like the suspense and excitement behind someone planning something for you!? It’s the best! Thankfully, my mystery (emoji) boyfriend knows this. I mean, he better, it’s been a while, ya know? In honor of Valentine’s Day, here’s a blog about one of the best surprises he’s pulled off.

He has taken me on many mystery date nights before. From random restaurants he has found, to dinner at a restaurant I love but he doesn’t, and even to row 4 tickets of a Broadway show! You may remember that he even took me to a staycation once in a hotel room that overlooked the freedom tower. I know, I know, I bagged a good guy, here. Well, not to gloat, but he outdid himself. This time he planned a whole getaway!

I went to Washington DC for MLK weekend, and since I was going to be away all weekend, he asked me what I was doing the next weekend. I assumed he wanted to Netflix and chill, because we are old and that’s the usual date night for us. But then he asked me what my plans were for all weekend, and I knew he had something up his sleeve! I told him I’d reserve the weekend for him. The next Friday, I packed an overnight bag, and we walked 4 blocks to Avis. He had told me that Amtrak was too expensive (it generally is, if you only book a week in advance), so he rented a car instead. I had no clue which way we were going until we got on the west side highway toward the George Washington Bridge and realized we were going north.

I wish I could tell you I figured it out then, but I didn’t. Plus, with traffic, we were barely out of the Bronx an hour later. And then I had to pee. Word to the wise: don’t drink coffee before a road trip. We had to stop at McDonalds for a pit stop and a few Chicken Selects. Because duh. We finally arrived at our destination at 10:15 pm, thankful for the fast food sustenance along the way.

We were in Hudson, New York! Not Hudson Valley, Hudson Hudson. I knew we were driving for a while, but I didn’t realize how far it was until our Uber driver later told us he lived in Albany. I gasped and said “wow, you must have taken a long trip to get here!” And he told me it was 40 minutes. Woops.

Unfortunately, we arrived so late that only two restaurants in town were open, so we took an uber to one of them, and had drinks and appetizers. The food was good, but we were exhausted. We went back to The Wick, where we were staying, and fell asleep within minutes.

Thank goodness for these drinks after a long drive!

Hudson, New York is home to a very quaint strip of restaurants and stores, and is supposedly a food destination. This is why my emoji man chose it for our getaway. What he didn’t know, is that it is also home to Etsy headquarters. I happen to have a good friend from the gym who works for Etsy, and she spends a good amount of time in Hudson. As soon as she saw I was there (because if you don’t Instagram it, it didn’t happen), she started sending me recommendations. Funnily enough, when she goes to Hudson for work, she stays in the same hotel we were in! She told us the best food and drink spots around town, and we took one of her recommendations, Le Merche, for brunch. She did not lead us astray! This place was fab. I had an egg sandwich on SUPER fresh bread, and my bf had the Croque Madame, which was delicious, fresh, and HUGE. I tried it, of course. And the side of potatoes… let’s just say that the food was so good I barely had time to take a photo of it. And we all know how rare that is.

My delicious breakfast sandwich on freshly baked bread.

The rest of afternoon I spent doing nothing, while my  bf worked. I asked him before we left if he was sure he wanted to go away with so much work to do, and he assured me that he did, and a change of scenery would be nice. Meanwhile, I read a book and styled my hair 5 different ways. I need to keep creating content for Braid in Manhattan to keep my followers happy! Also, my bf is becoming quite the insta-husband. He is so great at taking hair photos! I told he better be careful or I’ll make him go full-time.

  • So many hairstyles.
  • And even more hair pics.
  • Spot my gray hairs?
  • Emoji man loves to take pics when I’m not ready.

After many hours of blissfully doing nothing, we went to dinner at W.M. Farmer & Co., which we heard was the SPOT. In fact, every online article about food in Hudson mentioned this as the best restaurant. We made a reservation. Unfortunately, we are underwhelmed. The food, although farm to table, and not bad, was not overwhelmingly good, and it was very expensive, even for people from Manhattan. The one remarkable part was the cocktails. I would recommend this place to anyone looking for a GREAT drink. We each had two and were very impressed.

Since the only reservation available was at 6:30 pm, we had plenty of time after dinner to mill around. Unfortunately, it was 20 degrees outside, so we speed walked to a bar my friend had recommended. It seemed like a cool vibe, but the inside was very smoky (maybe because they are famous for a mezcal slushy?) and we decided it was too much for us. We went to a bar next door and had a beer. Then, surprisingly, after a day of doing absolutely nothing but eating, we were tired and went back to the hotel. We watched Marvelous Mrs. Maisel in bed and went to sleep. We really are an ancient couple. But that bed was so comfy!! I just love a king size bed. Someday when I move out a shoebox NYC apartment, I’m going to get one of my very own!

The next morning, we packed up and got ready to leave. The life of a man in finance means work on a Sunday, so we had to get back to the city. However, we needed sustenance first! Thankfully, my friend offered a final breakfast recommendation 10 minutes outside of Hudson, Gracie’s Luncheonette in the Catskills. We went from watching Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, to pretty much being in an episode of our own. We ate more delicious food and got a freshly-made donut for the road. We tried to leave quickly, because it started to snow as we ate. Not just flurry, but SNOW! I’m from Florida, and my bf is from Texas, so neither of us are too used to driving in a white-out. Thankfully, he took the wheel and I handled the donut. I’m pretty talented at feeding the driver, if I do say so myself.

We took toll roads back to the city, and got back within 2 hours! My bf dropped off the luggage and me, then returned the car, and I settled back into regular life and meal prep. Overall, it was a great 42-hour getaway with plenty of food and relaxation, and time with my better half. I have to keep reminding him of how much fun it was, so he knows to plan more surprises for the future! I promise to keep you guys posted. Do you have any fun mystery date ideas? Do you know my mystery man behind the emoji? Send him a text with an idea!

  • Morning Catskill Kisses in the Snow.
  • Evening FREEZING stroll. Doesn’t my bf look cold? 😉
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Long Legs and other Personal Problems

My Worst First

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It’s been nearly two months since the #MeToo movement struck the internet. Two months and many many many sexual assault accusations. So many, that it’s hard to keep up. You can find a handy-dandy list of “Powerful People in Entertainment Who Have Been Accused of Sexual Harassment or Assault” on the Teen Vogue website. And that article was published before another hard-hitter was announced last week, trophy child of NBC, Matt Lauer. In fact, there are lists like this popping up everywhere, including the New York Times, which has a chart with the accusation, the fallout, and the response. These are the times we live in, we need a chart to keep track. But am I surprised? No.

When the monstrosity of a bomb of Harvey Weinstein came out, and then in quick succession Louis CK, Charlie Rose, and many others on the chart, my female coworker said to me, “I can’t believe it; can you believe it?” And my answer? OF COURSE I CAN. Why would it not be true that men in power, men who are famous and have access to flocks of women, use their power to prey on women? Why would men in power choose not to prey on women, when ordinary, run-of-the-mill men do it, and get away with it, every day?

Two months ago, when the #MeToo movement began, I had trouble posting on social media. I didn’t feel it was necessary because of course me too. Because like, DUH, EVERYONE WHO HAS A VAGINA HAS BEEN VIOLATED. My emoji boyfriend, in light of the Al Franken situation asked me recently if anyone has ever “cupped my butt” as women allege Franken did in photos. And my answer is the same: of course. Because I am a female and that is what it means to be a female. So why should I bother posting #MeToo? To enlighten people? Are there really people out there to whom it would be surprising or eye-opening to see that these things happen to women? The answer, I guess, is yes. People seem to be surprised every day there is a new celebrity found to have acted improperly, whether it be inappropriate touching, fondling, rape, etc. And yes, I realize I just used the phrase “rape, etc.” That is the state of the world.

Ultimately, I decided to post one tweet, simply with the hashtag. No Facebook post, no story of my experiences (yes, plural), and no explanation. It felt like glorifying the perpetrator to put any story on the internet. Also, I worried, “what if people don’t think my story ‘counts’ and it isn’t ‘enough’?”

Have bad things happened to me? Sure. Were there “little” things like butt-grabs? Unwanted advances? Unwanted kisses? Yes. Was there also someone who said I “had to say yes because I set a precedent?” Also yes. Were there things that I could have pressed charges for? Yes. Yes to all of the above. There were worse things than the story I’m going to tell, and there were things that were “not as bad.” And I’m sure there will be more. I’m in a relationship now, which insulates me from a lot of the unwanted advances that come along with dating, but I am still a female, and I still leave my house, which means I am still vulnerable to any and all unwanted interactions with the opposite sex.

This story is specifically about my worst first blind date. In my humble opinion, it was one for the books. Which also makes it one for the blog. It’s a personal story, but I’m hoping that people connect to it. At various stages in the story, there were points where I felt uncomfortable. Where I wasn’t sure if a line had been crossed, but I knew I was uncomfortable. We are socialized as women to be easygoing and accommodating. To go with the flow. Sometimes, situations are confusing in the moment with things happening quickly around you, spinning out of control, and you don’t know until years later, looking back, just how wrong it was from the beginning. In the moment, it seems like maybe you said one wrong thing, or maybe if you had just worn a different outfit, or if you had just been firmer, then this wouldn’t have happened and he would have understood. But the reality is, there’s not much you can do in hindsight except tell your story.

Let me set the scene: It’s 2011, I’m a 2L in law school. I have been single for a little more than 2 years, dating here and there, using tinder, OKCupid, the works, but nothing was sticking. I had met a few guys where we had 2-3 month flings (let’s not make them more serious than they were), and after a few months, when it got to the point where they had to probably make it official or break it off, they all ghosted. Or in the rare chivalrous case, they did the fade-away, and not the full-on ghost. Anyway, point is, dating was not really working for me. So one night, after lamenting the single life over a few drinks, my friend told me he wanted to set me up. He told me he had a friend from childhood that he thought was perfect for me. He was tall (check!), into athletics, martial arts specifically, (check!), he lived locally (Long Island… but sort of check!), and he was single (CHECK CHECK CHECK). Clearly my standards were not set too high. But the dating apps were trash, so I said sure, why not?

This wasn’t a totally blind date because my friend knew him, let’s call him Freddy, so my friend promptly texted Freddy and told him to add me on Facebook and sent him my number. Within 5 minutes of me agreeing to a date, we were Facebook friends. For the next week, I spoke with the mystery man. Freddy called me a couple times over the next week to chat. I was impressed. Guys NEVER call. I was lucky at that point in my dating life if a guy replied to one of my texts within 4 hours! Freddy and I chatted on the phone for over an hour. Sure, sometimes I felt like his questions were intrusive, and a bit inappropriate. Why did he need to know what I was wearing? But hey, I was in law school. The answer was “sweatpants and a hoodie” almost every time. Why not let him know what he is in for? The last time we spoke on the phone before meeting in real life, he asked me what color underwear I was wearing. In hindsight, maybe this was a red flag and I should have canceled the date. But in the moment, I was like “black, got to go to sleep, see you tomorrow!”

The day of our date was not special for any reason. At this point I had been on many many first dates. Tinder is great for first dates… 2nd? Not so much. I did not put much thought into my outfit for the date. I wore a casual denim skirt and cute shirt with flip flops, in case Freddy wasn’t as tall as my friend said. He had picked a divey bar on the west side, since he was coming from the Long Island Railroad at Penn Station.

When I got to the bar, he gave me a hug and we sat down and ordered a drink. Right away, he put his hand on my leg. I thought it was a bit forward, but as a female who has been out in the world a few times, I just took his hand and placed it back on his own leg. We continued chatting about random topics, and every once in a while he would slip in an inappropriate question, which I would laugh off. I was thinking, “this guy thinks he is slick, but really, I am slicker!” Plus, obviously I was not wearing the same underwear as the night before, duh. Yes, he asked me that.

Meanwhile, three more times in the next half-hour, his hand magically appeared on my leg, slightly higher than the time before, and three more times I silently placed it back on his own. At one point, his fingers were pretty far up under my skirt but again, I did not say a word, I just took his hand and placed it back on his lap. At thirty-five minutes in, he tried to kiss me. While we were sitting side by side at the bar. Without getting into the mechanics of how difficult it is to kiss while sitting side by side at a bar, I was able to push him away. I was not sure where I gave him the indication that I would be interested in kissing him. Maybe it was the three times I had silently taken his hand off my leg without making a big fuss. Or the fact that I had a sip of the second drink he had gotten for me without asking. Anyway, again, I was thinking, “I am a smart, strong female, and I do not need to get hysterical that a guy tried to kiss me.” So I calmly told Freddy that I dislike public displays of affection, and I would appreciate if he would keep to himself at the bar. I figured this was a good way to combat the wandering hands, as well, which were getting out of control. He did not try to kiss me again, although he whined about it, and his hand did make another appearance on my leg, higher yet, under my skirt this time. I told it was time for me to go.

He knew where I lived, so he told me he would walk me back to Penn Station where my subway was, and where his train was. At this point, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be hanging out with him again, but since he was a friend of a friend, I said sure he could walk me to the train. The second we got outside, he “playfully” pushed me into the wall and said something to the effect of “we aren’t in public anymore, so now I can kiss you.” Then he also stuck his hand up my skirt. I squirmed away, walking faster toward the train. In case you were wondering, it was not playful. Or romantic. Also in case you were wondering, he was taller than me as my friend had promised. Significantly.

Again, in hindsight, maybe I should have taken this opportunity to invent a random errand I had forgotten about. But I was mostly concentrating on getting to the subway. So we continued walking. After what felt like an eternal two blocks, we reached the subway and he went down the stairs into the station with me. On any other occasion, I would have felt this to be a romantic gesture, but I was getting nervous that I would not be able to shake him. When I finally got to the turnstile, he asked me for a hug, and I acquiesced, as all females are taught to do. Little did I know that as I went to pull away, he would pull my skirt up. Completely. 100% showing everything underneath for full view of all MTA customers. I had been relatively reserved until that moment, but I couldn’t contain it anymore. I went off on him, screaming obscenities, pretty much every word that I know. I believe the last words I spoke to him were “are you f*cking kidding me right now!?” And as I turned around and swiped my MetroCard, I heard him say “text me when you get home, ok?”

I did not text him when I got home.

But he texted me! 4 times, in fact. By the time I got out of the subway (this was before we got texts underground), I had 4 messages from him about what a great time he had and how we should do it again sometime.

I felt like I had taken crazy pills. Who had a great time? Certainly not me. How did he have a great time? Did he enjoy hearing me scream the F bomb at him to the entire 34th street train station? I wasn’t too worried about him though, I figured I would just ghost, like guys do.

I called my friend who set us up, and since I am a female who only appeases others, I didn’t even tell him the story. It wasn’t worth it. I told him I didn’t think Freddy and I “clicked” and that we were “looking for different things.”

Me: looking for a caring guy. Freddy: looking for sexual assault. But I didn’t add that part.

I hung up the phone, went into my apartment, unfriended Freddy from Facebook, and answered his 4 text messages by saying I didn’t think it would work out with us as more than friends. Aren’t I so sweet?

I wish I could tell you that was the end of the story. It’s bad enough to end there, right? Unfortunately, it doesn’t.

A week later I received a phone call from a number I didn’t know. I was deep in the thick of applying for 2L summer internships, so I was answering every unknown number with vigor. I picked up, and was told that it was an officer with the Long Island Police Department. I was confused at first, because I didn’t remember applying there. But I kept listening. He asked my name, and he asked if I had recently been on a date with Freddy. Again, I was very confused. What did this have to do with my date? Did he report himself for pulling up my skirt in public? Did some good Samaritan see him put his hand up my skirt at the bar? The police officer went on to say that he was actually sitting with Freddy at the table, and they had questions for me. Again, I was baffled. Did he report me for saying no to getting it on in an alleyway?

Here’s something I didn’t mention before: Freddy is black. It was not relevant to the story before now. But as I continued to listen to the police officer, he told me that Freddy came into the station himself to report that he had received numerous death threats online. The officer said that Freddy received these threats from my friends via email, using the n-word, and telling Freddy that he should die because he went on a date with me and because I was white. Now, Freddy was not the first black man I went on a date with. Freddy would also not be the last black man I would go on a date with. And I certainly would not be friends with people who make death threats to anyone I go on dates with, black or not.

The officer asked me if I had told anyone that I was going on a date with Freddy. I kindly told the officer that yes, as is common practice for women when going to meet a stranger for the first time, I told my roommates and my best friend, none of whom are cyber bullies or racists.

I asked the officer if he had any information on who these threats came from, and if he could identify if they were, indeed my friends, because I was 100% sure that this is not the case and there must be some misunderstanding. He told me that the information was private, and he could not reveal it. I explained that I have a diverse and accepting group of friends, and they are not the type to cyber-bully, nor do I think they would go to those lengths to defend one date I went on. Then I asked him if my name would be on any paperwork because I was in law school and it was important for me to stay out of the court system.

Could I have said, “oh btw… Freddy also tried to finger me in a bar, and then forcibly kiss me in a bar, and then when I said no, he tried to do it in a dark alley, and then when I said no, he lifted my skirt up for all of Penn Station to see”? Yeah, I could have said that, but I didn’t.

I just told the officer that I did not know anyone who would make those kinds of threats. And the officer asked me to call him if I thought of someone who did it, or if “any new information came to light.”

For the next three weeks, I received periodic calls and voicemails from the Long Island Police. Never once did I tell them what really happened. And never once did I magically “remember” that I had a friend who was a racist cyber bully.

After three weeks of calls I never heard from the LIPD again. But I did hear from Freddy.

Two years after my worst first blind date ever, on December 6, 2013, Freddy’s photo popped up in my OKCupid inbox. I was expecting an apology. But no, it was as if we had never met. The message began “Hello, I’m Freddy. How are you doing? I see we have somethings (sic.) in common (tall, you stay in shape…”

I am not making this up. I went back years into my email to quote it exactly, minus the name. How does a person who reports a woman to the police, after assaulting her, look at her dating profile with multiple photos of her, and pretend it did not happen? HOW? I was so baffled, I just ignored it. I pretended it was another one of the many messages on OKCupid from weirdos, and I deleted it.

And that was the end of that. Except it wasn’t. Two years after the OKCupid message, in 2015, he friended me on Facebook. Again, I was baffled, but I just blocked him, since the unfriending back in 2011 clearly didn’t work. Thankfully, I have not heard from him since 2015. However, the friend who introduced us got married 18 months ago, and I wasn’t able to attend the wedding. I later learned that Freddy was one of the groomsmen, and I was relieved that I wasn’t able to go.

6 years later and I cannot put my finger on what part of this whole story hurt me the most. Was it the fact that I felt violated in public? The fact that I wish I had trusted my instincts and canceled the date before it happened? The fact that I wasn’t firmer with my words than just moving his hand? The fact that he pushed me against the wall and put his hand up my skirt and I still walked with him to the subway? The fact that when I called my friend, I didn’t tell him the truth? The fact that when I eventually did tell my friend the truth, he didn’t believe me? The fact that this man who clearly violated me, went on to report me to the police? The fact that he felt it was necessary to pull “the race card” for whatever reason he had? Or the fact that, years later, he pretended it never happened? I really don’t know.

But I’m telling my story anyway. It’s not going to fix anything. I’m not going to call the LIPD and say, “oh yeah FYI 6 years ago a guy made a false claim against me that I did not appreciate and also he tried to fondle me in an alley.”

Maybe I feel like being a bit of Silence Breaker myself. I may not get a Time Magazine cover, but I hope I empower someone out there to act on her instincts, or to say something makes her uncomfortable instead of just repeatedly moving a hand away. Maybe it will empower her to know that even if her hindsight is 20/20 and she looks back and rethinks her actions, realizing there were things she probably could have done differently, it doesn’t mean it was her fault that they happened.

So yeah, #MeToo. #MeToo so many times I can’t count. But this is one of my many stories that deserve a hashtag.

You should not have to be on the defense on a date or on the phone. You should not need to be on the defense in your place of work. But I’m not surprised that we still are. I’m not surprised that my single friends are still vigilant, telling their friends and roommates when and where they are going on their first dates, “just in case.” And I’m not surprised that Al Franken stepped down yesterday from the Senate. No, I’m not surprised. But I hope that soon, this will be the exception and not the rule. And I hope this story empowers at least one more woman to speak out and tell her story.

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Miscellaneous

Mystery Date Night

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My boyfriend has many pitfalls, the main one, of course, being that he has an emoji for a face. But recently he has been KILLING the date-game, and I must give credit where credit is due. You may remember less than a month ago, when he surprised me with 4th row tickets to see The Book of Mormon in preparation for our trip to Utah. TBH, I didn’t think he could beat that.

He has asked me early last week for a “date night” on Friday. Color me impressed. That was already a huge improvement. Pre-planning a date? Allowing me more than 3 days’ notice to put it in my always-full social calendar? I was excited.

Friday morning, he texted me while I was at work and said, “I checked your calendar. You don’t have anything tomorrow morning, right?” That’s right, ladies and gents, we share Google calendars. We are the COOLEST couple of all time. But honestly, I don’t know what we would do if we didn’t; I have too many things going on! Luckily, I had nothing going on the next day, since the UF Football game was canceled due to Hurricane Irma.

Anyway, my interest was piqued. A date that requires no plans the next morning? Were we going on a trip? We don’t have a car! Were we going out super late? Sleep No More? He knows I get scared way too easily for that shiz.

I got home from work and he told me to pack a bag. SO EXCITING. I packed an outfit, a gator outfit for the next day (it doesn’t matter if they aren’t playing, #InAllKindsOfWeather), a swimsuit (you never know) and some makeup. Then we headed out to our chariot (aka our Via, SIGN UP WITH MY CODE emily5s6e for $10 off!) and he still kept it a mystery as we headed downtown. I cheated a little by looking on the Via’s GPS, but all I cleaned from my snooping was that we were going super far downtown.

We arrived at the Hilton Millennium hotel just as the sun was setting. My emoji-bf has many great qualities, one big one being he is a Hilton Honors Gold member, so we got the highest room available, on the 48th floor. The room was overlooking the Freedom Tower, the 9/11 Memorial reflecting pool, and the Oculus. I’d argue there is no better view within Manhattan. The best view of Manhattan is from New Jersey, but really, WHO GOES THERE!? The view of the Freedom Tower could not have been more timely, the weekend before 9/11. 16 years later and I still have so many feelings.

We settled into our room in the third-best Hilton Hotel in Manhattan, and checked out the room service menu. How do I know it was the third-best? Because emoji-man was very upset when he looked it up and found out. Turns out the Waldorf Astoria is #1 and The Conrad is #2, in case these things matter to you.

Anyway, the emoji-BF decided on this mystery date because of an Amex offer (more on his and my credit card churning another day), which said that if you spend $300 at a Hilton Hotel, you get $350 back. FREE MONEY! MY FAVORITE KIND! We needed to figure out a way to spend $40 more to get the offer, so we perused the room service menu for items to “fit the bill,” literally. Unfortunately, this is NYC and room service, a lethal combination. Nothing on the menu was that cheap. So we started looking for other options.

We decided to dine at Osteria della Pace, a southern Italian restaurant inside Eataly. The food was delicious and I had a glass of no. 139 dry rose cider, which was sort of like a sparkling rose champagne. Yum! What is one of the worst things that can happen while dining downtown within one of the World Trade Center buildings? OH YEAH. THE ALARM CAN START GOING OFF. And sure enough, it did. In the middle of appetizers, the lights started strobing and an announcement started. I’ve never seen New Yorkers shut up so quickly in my life. It was quieter than a subway at 5 am when everyone is still asleep. The only problem was, no one could understand the announcement! It was static-y and the guy speaking had a very strong accent. After about 30 seconds of heart-pounding panic, we heard one word, “disregard,” and there was a collective huge sigh of relief. Besides that, dinner was DELISH.

We decided to stop at the newly-opened Oculus on the way back to the hotel, since we had never been there before. We actually had no idea what it was, besides that it looked like an exoskeleton of an ENORMOUS animal. And that is cost a sh*tton of money to build (first budgeted at $2 billion, but rose to $3.9 billion by the end). We entered, and I was immediately dizzy. It’s crazy-looking! In between fighting people for a space to take a selfie – this is a V popular place for selfies, go figure – we realized it was a train station. It connects the NJ Path to the NYC subway. As I said before, I clearly never go to NJ since I did not know this. It smells there. Ok, it smells in NYC, too. But I digress.

After our selfie, we went back to the hotel where we watched parts of 3 different movies on 3 different HBO channels. Remember life before HBO Now and Netflix? Where you had to tune into a movie in the middle? Those were rough times. Anyway, we also ordered a bottle of wine to reach our $300 minimum. The bottle was $45 (we are SO fancy), but with the extra added fees, it was $62. Those hotels are fee-machines. Oh well. We didn’t even open it, but we sure felt fancy getting it to our room! If anyone wants to come over to our apartment to share, no guarantees on quality.

We went to sleep and planned to wake up to swim in the pool. Unfortunately, the best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry, i.e. we overslept. We packed our bags up and headed down to the checkout.

After following my Snapchat/Instagram story and seeing the hotel view, no less than three of my friends texted me asking if I was getting engaged. To set everyone straight, I definitely did not get engaged. But I DID have an awesome night with my emoji-faced boyfriend. And for the record, mister, you have officially set the bar incredibly high if you ever do plan to “pull out all the stops” in the future. WINK WINK NUDGE NUDGE. I sure hope you have another Amex Offer in the pipeline! In maybe a year. Or maybe more. 😉

Morning view of the majestic Freedom Tower.

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Big City Living

NYC Date Night

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Saturday I went on the most epic NYC Date Night. Spoiler alert, Broadway was involved. This is my first blog post where I actually rave about living in New York, so get excited.

Back Story: My bf told me I am not allowed to write about him on this blog (hence why I always cover his face with an emoji), so I won’t give much detail about the back story. But, suffice it to say, I had not spent any meaningful amount of time with him in weeks, unless you count hours of sleep, and I told him he owed me a date night. If you don’t say what you want, how will you get it, AMIRITE? My emoji-bf’s idea of a date night is almost always the same: dinner at a restaurant where the cheapest aperitif rings in at approximately $25 and you are expected to have a glass of wine to pair with each course. Now don’t get me wrong, I can appreciate a good meal every once in a while, but I’m more likely to appreciate a dinner at the Meatball Shop, where I can go Balls to the Wall and still end up with a total bill of $20. I simply told my emoji-love-of-my-life that a fancy dinner would not do for date night, and I wanted to do a “fun activity.” I was thinking mini golf. Maybe bowling.

But no, he ended up surprising me with tickets to Book of Mormon on Broadway, and a dinner afterward! With 4th row orchestra seats. It was amazing.

If you are an avid longlegsbigcity reader, you know by now that I complain about New York more often than I rave about it (disgusting hot summers, terrible rainy days, smelly, non-air-conditioned subways, mystery slush lagoons in the winter). But I must say, Saturday was a day where I was incredibly thankful to live in the city that never sleeps.

Here is a rundown of the day that made me fall in love with NYC again:

Morning: I taught a spin class in my neighborhood, meaning, 30 blocks away. It was hot so I hopped on the subway (free with my unlimited Metrocard) and for once, the train came on time. I got there in 10 minutes. I made $50 and got my workout in. I picked up my new spin shoes on the way home, at the bicycle store that is conveniently located on the same street where I live.

Afternoon: I did 4 loads of laundry while I tanned on my rooftop. I am one of the lucky New Yorkers with both laundry in the building AND a rooftop for tanning. More on the #RooftopDweller Lifestyle later this week.

Later Afternoon: I asked Emoji-BF what I was supposed to wear for later, since he had told me he had planned a surprise date. He said “semi nice” which is not a thing. So I asked him more specifically and he said “we are going to see a show.” Keep in mind, he had never been to a Broadway show before, so I wasn’t sure if he meant show like, comedy club, or what. I showered and put on a sundress, and we walked to my sister’s house to hang out. Did I mention my sister and her husband live 11 blocks from me? It took us 10 minutes to get there by foot. Another great advantage of NYC.

Evening: E-BF (“emoji boyfriend”) called a Via and the two of us got down to midtown for $5.95 total. (Use my code to sign up for Via, and you can get super cheap rides too!! Use the code emily5s6e to get $10 free!) Anyway, we got to midtown and he handed me a ticket for Book of Mormon. I was ecstatic. Not only had I wanted to see that show for years, but we are going to Utah in 10 days! Perfect time to brush up on my Mormo-trivia. Not a typo, I call them Mormos.

Anyway, we entered the theater and the ushers told us to proceed down the aisle to the “front section usher.” What?! OUR TICKETS WERE IN THE FOURTH ROW. Guys, these seats were amazing. It turns out that there were 3 seats together, and they were still available that morning because you are not allowed to book 2 seats together on Ticketmaster when only 3 are available. However, E-BF tricked the system. He reserved (but didn’t purchase) one ticket, which holds it for up to 8 minutes, and doing so opened the other 2 up for purchase. Then he opened another browser window to purchase. BAM. I date him because he is so stinkin’ smart.

The show was absolutely AMAZING. Probably one of my favorites I have ever seen. And I have seen a lot. In order of most recent to least recent: Fiddler on the Roof, Porgy and Bess, Jersey Boys, Chicago, Aida, Riverdance, Bring in Da Noise Bring in Da Funk, Miss Saigon, Phantom of the Opera, and possibly more that I don’t remember. Anyway, HIGHLY HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend The Book of Mormon. I was laughing out loud within 1 minute of the curtain rising. I was smiling the whole time. My face literally hurt by the end. And the songs were so catchy, I have been listening to it on Spotify ever since. More importantly, I feel completely prepared for Utah.

Minor spoiler alert if you know absolutely nothing about Book of Mormon. The main characters, Mormon missionaries, get stationed in Uganda for their mission. This was a tiny bit awkward since my boyfriend is of African heritage. They make fun of African issues in a very satirical way, but it goes on for quite some time. Aids, people who think they can have sex with virgins to get rid of their Aids, dysentery, war lords, etc. I think E-Bf was a pretty good sport, but there were a few times I was worried to look over at him. He was born in New Jersey though, so I thought I was pretty safe. Maybe less safe at Jersey Boys.

When the show ended around 10:25, we were hungry and guess what, it is NYC so every single restaurant was still open. We went to Dutch Fred’s for dinner, one of E-BF’s fav spots. Then we took another $5.95 Via home.

What a successful NYC day/night. In what other city can you just decide on a whim at 11 am that you are going to buy tickets to a world-class production for that current day and take a 10 minute, $6 car there? Sometimes it’s really cool to live here.

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