So why do men call their apartment's Cribs?
Seven months ago I dated a NY attorney. A Columbia law school graduate, an up and coming, about-to-be-made Partner of a big NYC law firm. He wined and dined me to the hilt – even took me on the "long" version carriage ride through Central Park following a fabulous and romantic dinner at an uptown French restaurant. He called his company's car service to take me home to Hoboken. With one quick phone call he would get Broadway tickets to any show I wanted to see. He was not Mr. Muscle Flex but he was Mr. Wallet Flex. He was a man, a real live man….not a college guy….In fact, he probably had no clue what beer pong was. …..He even wanted to plan a vacation with me to Ireland….uh, after the first date! Slow down there Mr. Three Piece Suit! Anyway, the problem began early on. He was EXTREMELY JEALOUS AND POSSESSIVE!! More than anyone I had ever met. Example? Ok, during dinner he excused himself to use the restroom and returned to find me chatting to the older gentleman sitting next to us about the dessert he was enjoying. My date barked at the gentleman who was clearly old enough to be my father, "Are you trying to steal my date?" The older gentleman looked at him like he was crazy but refrained from comment. However, the gentleman flashed a look at me when he left as if to say, "What are you doing with that lunatic?" That same night he took me to the theatre. When my brother, Adam, found out my date was taking me to see Les Mis, he immediately called his friend and star of the show, Norm Lewis to say hello to us after the show and oblige us with a picture taken with him. Being the ex-actress that I am, I was very excited to meet the cast. I was like a kid in a candy store. After meeting Norm and Aaron Lazar and having our pictures taken with them, my date became quite jealous. As we walked away from the theatre he proclaimed, "I think that guy Norm Lewis was trying to pick you up…right in front of me". I looked at my date like he was crazy. I said, "Norm invited us to come backstage next time we were in mid-town. He was just being polite knowing I was Adam's sister". Ugh! My date also felt I was flirting too much with the actors. Whatever! Obviously, he doesn't understand friendly theatre people.
Anyway, what made this the absolute last time I would see him again was when I went back to "THE CRIB". You're wondering why on earth I went back there. There's an explanation. While my date and I were returning to my apartment, I smelled pot seeping down the hallway while we were coming up the steps. My roommate at the time, was clearly having a pot party from the noise level inside our apartment. "I can't go in there", I said. My date, the attorney that he is, didn't want to see me get arrested later that evening as an accomplice to illegal activity so he recommended in chivalrous fashion that I could stay at his place. I'll admit my curiosity on seeing his place intrigued me. I knew he owned an upper west side apartment. I'd seen his Brooks Brothers suits so I figured he's a successful attorney, he's 33, he must have at least a nice apartment. A Crib to entertain, keep chilled wine, play soft stereo music…you know. So we returned to his Manhattan apartment. Well, as I skeeved my way through the apartment halls I thought that maybe building maintenance was preparing to fix the place up or do major construction work soon. I proceeded cautiously. It was a disgusting run-down mess, ok! Inside his actual apartment was worse. Now I know he wasn't expecting to bring me back that night. So I shouldn't be so judgmental on every little hair in the bathroom sink but obviously, he most certainly had never entertained a female attorney there before. His "crib" had the strangest looking toilet stained rings I'd ever seen. His kitchen sink had something growing out of it. The furniture was mismatched college pieces, no couch, an unmade bed with sheets from who knows how long ago they had been washed. Thank god, he left for a while to return the keys to the company car. I managed to fall asleep. I woke up in the morning to find myself spooned by a six figured money making man who lived in a pigsty and who I swore I'd never see again. He offered to get the car and take me home. I said, "No no, I want to walk…" I figured I needed to air out my clothes. I think he knew it was over for me when I said goodbye. But that's not how the story ends….it only gets funnier. Actually hysterical.
Two days later I received an email from my date. It said, "Dear Tara, I am not prepared to take you out again after the way you acted on our last date. Good luck with the apartment and everything."
My first reaction was to laugh my head off thinking I'd never go out with him again anyway. What a psycho! Then I thought...You bastard, trying to make me feel there is something wrong with me!! I never responded to the email.
Part II – A month later.
Out of the blue, he wrote me again "I've started dating someone who is in the cast for Les Miz...yes, the same Les Miz we saw while you were trying to arrange dates in front of me with cast members...irony, or karma? We'll never know."
Possessive psycho with an actress! How funny is that? What a liar!
Again, I never responded.
Part III – Three months later
He wrote me again:
How've you been? I have theater tickets for Saturday. Want to go? :-)
Hmm. Thinking this guy is nuts I'll respond with a respectful "No thank you."
"You're welcome. I decided I was too harsh on you before. It's probably too late to apologize. You probably hate me. :-( Hope you're well."
I never responded.