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- Denver Named Worst City for Dating | Westword
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This quality puzzles Howie. One problem with Denver dating, in Howie's view, is the fondness men have for gathering in mostly male packs. They just hang out together in groups. But in Denver, men who are in their thirties and forties are acting that way. Such an approach to socializing is hardly universal, Howie stresses. They don't have Facebook, they don't have Tinder, and they don't have porn, so they're forced to interact with each other. But Denver has so much natural beauty and so many things going on that I think it's made everybody a little lazy.
Maybe it's too nice and comfortable and active. Like, 'Let's go on a hike' instead of going on an actual date — and one woman in Denver told us, 'If we really wanted to go hiking, they should serve wine on top of the mountain. Denver men phone it in from a wardrobe perspective, too, Howie's found. Denver is nicknamed Menver because there are supposedly more single males than single females on the market — and if these stats are accurate, they would seem to motivate guys to try harder. But Howie scoffs at the entire concept. That's supposedly why there are these bro packs that you just don't see in the rest of the country.
But in Man Jose, they're a bunch of mostly techny nerds who are afraid of women, and the men in Denver aren't afraid of women. They're just lazy about it. Besides, he continues, "I don't think there really are greater numbers. I think that's an illusion. In every city in the country, it's fifty-fifty between 18 and 65 — and then after 65, the men start to die off.
One woman in Atlanta disputed that when I said it: She said, 'No, there are 70, more single women in Atlanta than single men. You have successfully signed up for your selected newsletter s - please keep an eye on your mailbox, we're movin' in! For that reason, "I don't think the Menver thing has anything to do with the combination of passiveness and indifference we see in Denver men, and that's really unlike anything in any other city in the country," Howie maintains. They're like, 'That's just the way it is. They're not angry — which makes them awesome. I mean, I can't believe they're not angry.
I do shows in New York once a month, and those women are furious about all sorts of things. So it's not like the guys in Denver are dealing with a lot of bitchy women. The women in Denver are just a little sad. Acceptance isn't necessarily a good thing, though. But men are still getting dates in Denver when they want them — so women need to hold them to a higher standard. I always say that women act and men react.
I really believe that — and I think that if women are like, 'Here's what we want you to do. We love you guys, and we think you're awesome. You have so much potential. But you need to do this, this and this' — and if they say that, I think the guys will do it. I think they'll jump through the hoop. They're trainable, but they're not being trained by the women in Denver.
As I eat my way through her fridge, I discover a plastic bag with several chocolates in it. Some of them are those mini-size Hershey bars, Mr. I shove the foil wrapped chocolate in my face and down my gullet. Then I head up to the roof for party time! She somehow does not think my request about her computer and the noise is too weird, comes down with me to shut it down, and goes back upstairs. I have chains in my veins!
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I conclude that I am either having a psychotic break, or I am on drugs. Still barefoot, I decide to make the journey upstairs to the rooftop again to consult Maya about this situation. I go up the wrong elevator and it does not take me to the rooftop. It takes me to a deserted area of the dorm where, I shit you not, there were murals of shrooms smoking joints on the wall.
I have confirmed afterwards that this is true in real life, not just in drug life as I was experiencing it at the time. Eventually I make it up to the rooftop. She comes into the elevator. She asks if I ate something wrapped in pink foil. I am up for this, but I have two primary concerns.
Adventures in dating…in person and online.
All the people here are cool enough to do drugs on purpose but I am a goody two shoes who only drinks and they are going to KNOW when they look at me! People did do that sort of thing for me, but she was the one who had to tell them I was tripping. They also played me some sweet music that I could slowly bop around to. Maya and a group of her friends are sitting around talking, smoking, etc. Yes it is, Oswaldo, your face is getting bigger and smaller in waves while you are telling me this!
We hang out for a while and he suggests we go outside to watch the sunrise on the Charles River. He also suggests we go get breakfast. Oswaldo says he knows a breakfast place over that way that has delicious Challah bread French toast. However, we discover that this place is not open. So we go to Dunkin Donuts, because those are open 24 hours and there is one pretty much every 2 blocks in Boston.
Denver Named Worst City for Dating | Westword
And then Oswaldo walks me to my apartment. Luckily, no one appears to be home so I go to sleep. And then my brain hurts for a day and a half. You may recall my previous post where I refer to what it means to be Denver famous. Some Denver famous people move on to become real famous people… such as…. That would be awesome if that was a thing. It was a good time, and I appreciated being kept anonymous. My friends also laughed when I read it aloud to them. Then I made them all swear to never tell anyone I have ever dated or might want to date that I am Allison.
And I will remember the little people when I become anonymously Denver famous. I am considering making a fake web presence for my fake self. If you have any suggestions for an awesome last name for Allison, please comment them. For all the new people just seeing this blog now, welcome.
In an actual relationship. So it was a weird adjustment to be in a relationship, but sort of refreshing. This relationship did not turn out to be the one that stuck. However, for the first time in my life, I am happy to say I mostly acted like an adult from start to finish in a dating relationship.
We are even being friends, so far, with reasonable success. Weird, perhaps, but in a good way. It featured a two-legged Chihuahua and a silky chicken who are best friends and ride in the same crate. I still find it boring but watched so much of it involuntarily that I think I know almost all the names of the players by now and also probably know which teams are in the AFC and the NFC and some other stuff that is probably lurking deep in my brain, poised to come out when I need to connect with some of my male students about football or otherwise impress some bros.
I also learned that there are wine bros, and he would find them all at whatever liquor store or restaurant or park we went to. Probably because he wears a vest and gives you wine. Maybe that was why I was in this relationship… because my ex-boyfriend also did things like wear vests and give me wine. I think those are most of the things I learned. I also learned some things about myself, some of which make me wonder if I actually prefer to be single or if I am just used to single status as a default. Because I discovered how used to being single I really am.
And Denver is a small town so I am guaranteed to run into some more exes soon — I just spotted volleyball tattoo guy from afar at my recreational volleyball game last week and went with the avoidance strategy. So stay tuned for more soon.
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Busy and full of dudes. So, I decided I was over being on pizza break, and hit Tinder with a vengeance. I Tindered up a bunch of dudes and was just trying figure out how to fit them into my schedule when conditions aligned just right for me to have maximum Tinder dates in one day. Due to recent ridiculous flooding in Denver and my own stupidity, I flooded my car engine by driving through too deep of water on the way to meet my friend to see Pitch Perfect 2.
I did not see Pitch Perfect 2 that day, instead, I waited for a long time in the middle of the street to get my car towed. My mechanic is magical so he fixed it and everything, but it required drying the car out over the weekend. The first dude was normal and only became a crazy person after the initial date, so I will save that one for later.
The second date might be one of my most impressive first date stories.
So, I literally stacked these dates one after the other so I was walking into my second date, scheduled for 5pm happy hour, right on time. I realize, however, that bachelor 2 had texted me a few minutes beforehand saying he was running late. There is a really nice group of people having a college graduation party up there, and they offer me drink tickets and we shoot the shit and hang out.
For a long ass time. Another half an hour passes and this dude shows up at 6: A full hour and 15 minutes later than our originally planned meeting time. You could have at least made up an excuse that sounded like you had some level of respect for me or my time or something. So I tell him that I have to leave at 7pm, which I do, because I am meeting a friend to go to a show, but we can sit there until then.
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I am also a little buzzed at this point due to the beers I have been drinking whilst waiting for this asshat. It would seem like a generally normal and appropriate date conversation except that during the 40 minutes we spent talking, he took not one but TWO phone calls. Like it was an important emergency or something. If I was a cartoon character my eyes would have turned red and steam would have started coming out of my ears. But I was also kind of drunk so I just looked off into the distance behind him on the balcony and had flashbacks Friends with Benefits guy who always looked at his phone.
Right as I am trying to leave, it is starting to rain, because Colorado has apparently become a floodplain. We go downstairs to wait by the door for the Lyft. He says he thinks of himself as hot but he wants to hear me say it. He finishes paying just in time. What about after the show? We get to his apartment, which is indeed about 4 blocks from Historians.
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It catches me off guard and I sort of kiss him back because it seems a bit dramatic to slap him. I apologize to the Lyft driver, who looks sort of scared. He later tells me he just moved to the U. Poor guy, welcome to America, where all the dudes are dicks and do awkward shit in your car while you are just trying to make a buck! I make it to Black Shirt Brewery, where I regale my friend with tales of my crazy ass dates while watching a band called Church Fire. Learn social cues, dude!
I also discover that my Lyft driver from that night gave me 5-star rating. Maybe he felt bad for me. Or maybe he just loves America… Happy Late 4th of July! So this is another story from about 4 or 5 years ago.
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I believe I met this guy off of OkCupid or another free dating site. And apparently, this was before I was too lazy to drive to Boulder or the suburbs or other places outside of 15 minutes from my house to hang out with dudes. I recently realized this when I was talking to a guy on Tinder and was unwilling to continue talking to him once I realized he lived in Boulder. So I meet this dude online and he wants to meet up to go on a date in Boulder. So I do, and we start dating. I hang out with him in such illustrious Boulder locations as Mountain Sun Brewery, that outdoor fancy shopping mall area, walking along Boulder Creek, at the Dushambe Tea House… it was pretty much a best of Boulder montage.
At some point in our dating I discover two key things about this dude. He also liked EDM music back when it was called electronic music or something like that and the club and was really impressed with himself for having gone skydiving, so maybe I should have seen the end coming. Also, he had a soul patch. I just remembered that detail, which really completes this story in my mind. We would make out a lot in public places because he was squatting in CU Boulder University Housing without being a student and lived with 4 other Indian dudes.
One day, we made out at one of the Boulder Open Space parks while hiking, in his designer outfit, so not real hiking. He wore really nice clothes, as in fancy jeans and really Euro-y looking shirts. Come to think of it, my friend who likes European bros probably would have liked him, at least in terms of his wardrobe. We got some dinner or something and then I went back to Denver.
Unbeknownst to me, he had left his fancy sunglasses in my car. This will become relevant to the story later. So, as you may recall, I am a social worker and I work with teenagers. This is also about to become relevant to the story. One day, because we have been hanging out for a while, I decide to actually tell him something real and vulnerable and not just try to be entertaining.
I tell him about how I feel sad because one of the students I work with just found out she is pregnant and it always makes me depressed when year-olds get pregnant. There went your shot at me and my eyebrows continuing to hang out with you, motherfucker… I started yelling at him over the phone about being racist and broke up with him.