Bumblin' in Boston

I made a Boston OKCupid profile four days before I moved there so I could start talking to people and get the lay of the land. Good idea, right? Sounds like fun? Promise me you’ll never do this. PROMISE ME.

I carefully mapped out my Eat, Drive, F*ck route to coincide with the best seasons of each city. So of course I decided to go to Boston in the fall (and Asheville in the winter because I hate New York winters, and Austin in the spring so I’m not there when it’s hot as balls). I was so excited to visit Boston during its best season. And then I went on an online dating site there.

I let people know about my trip in my dating profile so I’m upfront and honest about the fact that I’m just passing through. “How does Boston rank in comparison to the other cities you’ve visited?” almost all of these men ask me. And what I say in return is: “If the Boston OKC scene is representative of Boston as a whole, I will… not be putting roots down here.”

Here are a few first messages I received from Boston bros:

And I'll throw in an interaction from Bumble so you can really see what I'm working with:
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Other observations:

1. So many bald men. Is there something in the water? NOTHING against this, it’s just something I didn’t expect. So if you’re a Pitbull fan, Boston is your Mecca.
2. If they’re not bald, they’re redheads. Please note that this, too, I have no problem with. In fact, I love redheads. It’s just that gingers make me think of gingerbread men and then I think of gumdrops and then I get a sugar craving and have to chew a piece of gum or something.
3. Highest matches percentage-wise. Almost everyone I talk to is a 90% or above. In New York, the average would be around 70-80. Maybe it’s because Boston is smarter and more monogamy-oriented. NYC is a freakin bacchanalia whereas Boston men are doing brain surgery in a sensible sweater and corduroys and then when they’re not doing brain surgery they’re reading about doing brain surgery in their spare time.

Two days before I left, I started complaining to my friend Vanessa. “I don’t think I’m going to go on any dates in Boston. Boston guys aren’t as hot as NYC guys and I feel like a total asshole saying that.”

“Maybe you’ll take the next two months to ‘dry out,’” she said.

“’Dry out?’ Bitch, I’m gonna be jerky by the end of this trip.”

I was actually going to shave my bikini line and run to Babeland before my trip to pick up packets of lube before I left, but after a few days on Boston OKC, there was no use. Just like a home without HBO, there will be no sex in this city. I’ll be walking around prickly and dry, like one of those carpets made of fake grass.

I went over to my friend Dave’s house and told him about my disappointment. A Yale grad and Columbia Business School grad, I cracked up but wasn’t surprised when Dave opened his laptop, said “Let’s investigate this” and started crunching some numbers.

“The population of NYC is 8 million people. Half are men. So now we’re down to 4 million. About ten percent of those men identify as gay. Now we’re down to 3.6 million. And let’s say half of those hetero men are single. You’re used to a dating pool of roughly 1.5 million people.”

That sounded about right.

“Now let’s take a look at Boston. Its population is 600k people. If we do the same math, the dating pool there is about 150k people. It is a tenth of what you’re used to.”

I heard that math and was like FUCK. Vanessa also reminded me that people don’t come to Boston to become an actor or a musician or a model like they do in NYC. Because the thing about dating in NYC is that even though most of the men are kinda sorta man-children who don’t really know what they want, you can tolerate it at least for a little while because they’re hot. And I am a weak, weak woman when it comes to tattooed men with dark hair, which NYC is full of. If I want to get laid in Boston, I’ll have to pretend all these redheads’ freckles are just a ton of tiny brown circular tattoos. Connect the dots? I dunno. I’ll soldier through it.

And then I got here. When I got off the train and was waiting for my Lyft to my Airbnb, a strange man my dad’s age came up to me and asked if we could share a cab. When I told him I couldn’t help him, he called me “really fucking rude” and stormed off. (Ah, just like home. Already I was missing NYC!) That was my first interaction with a man in Boston.

So despite all of the inherent challenges when it comes to the Boston dating scene, I did set up very, very casual dates with three men:

1. A guy who used to live 5 blocks from me in Astoria (!) and shares my love of cannoli cake.
2. A guy who looks just like my ex if my ex had a septum piercing and referred to Paul Thomas Anderson as “PTA” in his favorite movies. Unless you’re on a first-name basis with Paul Thomas Anderson and that is some cute nickname he gave you permission to use when y’all text, please don’t do that. (I kinda sorta flaked out on this guy already.) (DATING IS HARD.)
3. A guy with a total romance novel protagonist name who is incredibly funny and planned the best date I have ever been asked on: eating a bag of candy while we sit on a bench and people-watch. AM I GOING ON A DATE WITH MYSELF?

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Stay tuned.