Posted on August 27, 2012


Our second encounter didn’t go so well.

There are some relationships that are just fated to happen. And no matter how many times you miss the signs, the universe will put you together again. That’s what I thought was happening with Dylan.

We met for the first time on JDate, chatted for a while, and things were going well. He wasn’t really my type—honestly, a little weird looking—but we had a lot in common, so I gave him a chance. After about five messages back and forth, he wrote that his JDate account was about to expire, but if I was still interested, I should email him on his GMail account. I had a few other prospects at that point, and kind of just forgot to put in the effort. That was the end of our online conversation.

Fast-forward about a year. My roommate was moving out of our apartment, so we decided to throw a going away party on our building’s roof deck. We got up to the roof early in the evening to reserve a few picnic tables and lay out our makeshift bar and snacks. When we were all set up and lounging at our table with a couple friends before the party began, a group of guys approached.

“Are you seriously reserving both of these tables?” asked one. Holy shit, it was Dylan (I recognized his weird-looking face). I turned away so he wouldn’t recognize me, letting my roommate explain to him that we were expecting a much bigger crowd and thus had planned ahead. He continued to be a dick, making up rules about table reservations that didn’t exist, but eventually backed down. Crisis averted.

Glad I hadn’t gone out with him the year befrore, I went back to our party, and didn’t notice what happened to Dylan that night.

Fast-forward three weeks. A group of friends and I headed to The Tippler, a really great underground bar near Chelsea Market. The first person I see when walking in? You guessed it.

This time, Dylan noticed me too, and we locked eyes. Already a couple drinks in at this point, I felt confident to make a move. I approached and asked if by any chance he lived in my building, since I’d noticed him on the roof.

“No,” he said. “I have a friend who lives there though. But I recognize you from JDate. You totally blew me off.” We had a good laugh about that one, and then I chided him for being such an asshole on the roof, which he took well. We chatted for the rest of the night. I was feeling pretty good about the universe at this point, and was seriously thinking that he was perfect for me. We exchanged numbers (he put himself in my phone as ‘Dylan Rooftop Asshole’), and he texted the next day. We even chatted on the phone a little bit to plan our date for that Wednesday.

On Tuesday, he texted to say that he was stuck in Texas for work and would have to reschedule. “No problem,” I said. “Let me know when you’re back.”

I couldn’t remember what he actually did for a living, so when I got home that night, I did what any respectable single woman would do—I Googled him. Nothing too scandalous came up—just his Facebook and LinkedIn page (which answered my question).

The next day, a text from Dylan: “So I guess you were so disappointed that I rescheduled that you decided to LinkedIn stalk me?”

WTF? LinkedIn tells people when you’ve looked at their profile??? Well that’s uncomfortable. “Well there’s nothing more important to me than a good LinkedIn profile,” I joked. I guess he didn’t think it was funny. He never responded and he never let me know when he got back in town. It’s been two months.

I guess when a guy scares that easily, there’s nothing the universe can do.

—Raz, 25, NYC

Posted in: My Stories