Once a week, Daily Intel looks behind doors left slightly ajar. This week, the Nice-Guy Bachelor Who Wants a Girlfriend: male, 29, Brooklyn, straight, single.
DAY ONE
12:30 a.m.: Text from Busy Teacher Girl, apologizing for not calling; says she will call me tomorrow. This is the first contact since Friday, and it occurs at the exact moment that I was ready to mentally write her off.
Noon:Reply to text with only an “OK.” Kind of annoyed at myself for taking this passive-aggressive tack. We met at a day-after–New Year’s party when we were paired to play beer pong. We made a good team, swapped numbers, and made out.
4 p.m.: Waiting out the last hour of work at my community-outreach job. The chain of command is completely broken and I’m not really sure what my role is anymore. Today it took three people to count to eight. I’m not kidding.
7 p.m.: Browsing the posts on Craigslist W4M while watching Jeopardy and searching for jobs. I’m kind of amazed at how much CL has declined over the years.
10 p.m.: Phone call from Busy Teacher Girl. She’s spunky and sarcastic, but our verbal sparring is awkward — not quite our usual flirting. I kind of back into a date on Friday with her and a mutual male friend.
10:15 p.m.: After we hang up, I realize I at some point need to ask her how serious she is about this relationship. My instincts say “not very,” though she seemed far more enthusiastic last week. I think there is probably another guy. That’s been happening to me a lot lately.
11 p.m.: Roommate has her boyfriend over for like the fourth consecutive night. Jeez, man, take a girl to your place once in a while.
DAY TWO
8 a.m.: Thinking about Ex. I was in a young relationship that I thought was going really well, but she broke up with me just after Thanksgiving — her reason being that she had been seeing someone else for the last month and didn’t want to get as serious as I wanted to. I’m not quite certain that I entirely believed that, but it was sort of a double whammy of breakup reasons. So that had me pretty upset. I don’t think I dated or saw anyone for the next month or so, until the New Year’s party.
12 p.m.: Company lunch in the office. No one here is even remotely attractive. Except for the kinda-cute intern, who is still really weird-looking. Her legs are thinner than my arms.
7 p.m.: Think about calling Busy Teacher Girl to discuss our status, but I end up meeting a friend for beer after work. Probably best not to call too buzzed. Also, I don’t want it to sound too dramatic. I’m thinking about the best way to word it.
9 p.m.: Home, sitting in bed with my laptop. My hand eventually wanders downtown and I think of jerking off. My favorite celebrity-picture site is down. Maybe this is a good thing.
DAY THREE
8 a.m.: Woke up late and cold. Fondled myself for a few minutes; already late to work, and show remarkable restraint and get out of bed. Luckily (or unluckily), I purged all porn from my computer and put it onto my external HD. No hard-copy sources, either. No time to transfer files. Get to work marginally on time.
12 p.m.: What am I looking for relationship-wise? I’m looking for a girlfriend, a long-term relationship, at least in theory. I definitely like the idea of it, but I’m not really sure how to make it happen or how to behave when I’m in one. I think what I’m looking for most is something that is clearly defined — whether the goal of the relationship is NSA or FWB or LTR, I just need intentions to be clearly and honestly expressed.
4 p.m.: Get out of work a bit early and head to gym for the first time in like a year. Run a few laps, play some pickup basketball and do surprisingly well. I’m exhausted but energized; takes my mind off things for a while. Try to avoid seeing schlong in the locker room. Giant mirrors everywhere don’t help.
7 p.m.: Bored, don’t feel like searching for jobs. Check out some porn. it takes a while but I masturbate and come.
8 p.m.: Call the girl, leave a message. A call back?
9 p.m.: Yes, a call back. We chat; she gives me the info for where to meet our mutual friends. Sounds disinterested and distant, though. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
DAY FOUR
11 a.m.: She texts me that our mutual friend has backed out, and therefore our “date” is canceled. I knew this already, since I had spoken with him earlier in the day. Kind of annoyed by this excuse, but it’s clear she is trying to avoid me.
Noon: I text “OK” and start thinking of other girls I can call.
12:10 p.m.: There’s the Extremely Chipper Cutesy Girl, but we haven’t talked in two weeks or so. There’s the Didn’t Hear From for Two Years But Randomly Hung Out With Twice Recently Girl. Don’t know what her intentions are. I was interested two years ago but not really sure I am anymore. Neither option seems too appealing.
10 p.m.: I go to sleep.
11 p.m.: My roommate and her boyfriend. Five times in seven nights. Really? Sick of hearing the bed hitting the wall.
DAY FIVE
1 p.m.: Weekend. Not doing a damn thing. Traveling between my bed and the couch, scouring the Internet for job opportunities.
2 p.m.: Job searching inevitably leads to browsing personal ads, which leads to Casual Encounters, which leads to porn, which leads to quiet, restrained jerking off. My roommate has no problem banging her bed against my wall every night but I’m too timid to utter a sound or breathe normally while masturbating in my room with the door closed and the radio on midday. The apartment might even be empty.
DAY SIX
6 p.m.: Watch Super Bowl at a friend’s place; I’m really the only one interested in the game and get slightly annoyed by everyone not paying attention to it.
9 p.m.: The liquor is flowing and there’s some celebratory fondling and making out after the game. A swinging attitude is prevalent in the apartment. I’m involved but I’m not really into where this is heading, so I leave.
11 p.m.: Go home and masturbate to some lingerie videos.
DAY SEVEN
11 a.m.: Gchat with an ex-girlfriend who moved away a few years ago. We speak sporadically, with the pattern being that we reach out to each other when we are single. She breaks that pattern.
2 p.m.: There are a lot of pretty girls on the streets of Soho.
6 p.m.: There are no pretty girls on the F train.
8 p.m.: Sitting home rotting my brain by watching the Office for three hours.
8:30 p.m.: Text from a friend asking if I want to move into her new place with her. I most definitely do. Three years ago we dated for a month or two, and have become good friends. She’s cool, makes a lot of money, and has huge tits. After all this time I still kinda want to feel her up. Also, the pics of the place she’s moving into are fantastic.
TOTALS: Five acts of masturbation; one date canceled via text message; zero acts of intercourse.
