Hook-up Culture

I've never really understood the hook-up culture of New York, but now that I am a player in it I realize there is nothing to really understand, per se. I find that I was a pretty timid player in that game of monstrous proportions: "What? You want me to come back to your place? Um... I don't know. I'm a good girl, I don't normally do this! I had a boyfriend once for 4 years!"And here I am... still anxiety driven, but confronted with very simple reality that is before me which consists of hundreds of thousands of incredibly talented, good looking, single, art-oriented driven 20-somethings all operating and existing in one city! It's an unfathomable amount of people when I think about it, and then I realize I am right smack in the middle of them all (well, not quite, seeing as about 3/4 of them all live in and around Brooklyn and I'm in Queens.)

I had my first roll of the dice a couple weeks ago with the make-out in the bar and that turned into another evening this week with the Cutie and I in Brooklyn and ended with me taking the subway back to Queens the next morning with the rush-hour crowd, still wearing make-up, undies and clothes from the night before...

So, I'm still trying to put my thoughts in order about what it means to casually hook-up with someone. The Romantic side of my brain is screaming at me to make a move and call Cutie and ask if we should meet again and the practical side of my brain is saying "Mmm. That scratched an itch, and that was that. If he calls, he calls, but otherwise: let's see what else is out there, I like this game!"I'm letting the practical side win this argument for the time being. Although I feel my fingers itch to write a ridiculously happy blog post about waking up next to someone I am crazy about and describing what their hand feels like in mine, etc, etc etc... I already have another date lined up for tomorrow morning with a ridiculously hot looking guy who's European with a healthy dash of middle-eastern and looks like he packs a huge, um, camera in his facebook photo.

Jeesh, 25 is rip-roaring and I've only just started! September isn't even over yet! I remember last year when I was writing about how pretty the fluffy white clouds looked and Mr. Hazel shooting me a look in the cafe. Now, I've got Camera Man for brunch tomorrow and I'm still busy finishing up drooling over the Cutie I met in Williamsburg. Single is fun if in the right mind-set, right?