My roommate and I decided not long ago to take charge of our lives and cut out things that were causing us much pain and misery. I originally wanted to eliminate Ann Coulter completely, like, off the face of planet Earth say? But apparently you can’t do that. Who knew? So I needed to find something more feasible, especially now that my therapy sessions have come to an end. (Hooray! I’m now totally uninsured! I Heart America!)

So yes. Where was I? Cutting out suffering and agony, yes. After realizing that The Roommate and I are already meat and dairy free and neither of us wanted to give up the deliciousness of chocolate or my new famous pumpkin muffins, we decided to keep it simple. I vowed to stay away from any and all members of the opposite sex for six months and the roommate decided to lay off The Drink. For the record, this is a generalization and does not mean to imply that my roommate is an alcoholic and that I am a dirty slut. I have not tongue kissed a single boy in a very long time. So what.

I thought I made the right choice until one of my friends countered, “But…what if you meet the Man Of Your Dreams during Month #4?” Well, dear friend. He ain’t the man of my dreams because if he WAS, he would know that he can’t possibly show up until my birthday or, even more possibly, at least for another few years. But then I got to thinking that maybe once you say “NO MORE!” the Universe thrusts that very thing on you, just because. And I thought a LOT about that. And then I promptly forgot about it and went to eat some cereal. (Peanut Butter Puffins!)

That is, I didn’t think of it again until I was waiting to meet up with my roommate for a fun evening of No Drinks and No Boys which included screaming like a tween at the Maroon 5 concert. (Shut up. We were really there for Sara Bareilles, the opening act, who is my New Favorite Artist but am I going to lie to you and tell you that when Adam Levine came out and started singing that I did not give a care at all, that I did not jump and down and scream like a twelve year old and dance and sing along to every song? Of course not. We totally did all that and more because it was hot hot hot hot and Madison Square Garden was sold out and we had floor seats and STOP SNICKERING AT MY MUSICAL TASTE because, as my roommate said, it was better than intermittently tongue kissing and nursing a whiskey sour. IT TRULY WAS.)

We decided to meet before the concert outside Subtle Tea, which, um, you should be going to at least once a week. May I suggest an iced almond cookies green tea? Take a sip. Let it sink in. And accept the fact that there are few things in life better than that. (My roommate agreed it was better than cuddling during a scary movie while sipping pinot noir.)

While waiting on the corner for my roomie to show up, I held up my phone to capture a great picture of the Empire State Building against the night sky. Cue a man walking by who ACTUALLY SAID:

“You know, your phone would work a lot better with my number in it.”

*blink*

*blink*

I paused. Stared. And uttered a high pitched, “SERIOUSLY!?!?!??!?!”

He grinned a bit sheepishly and said, “Yeah. Hey. I’m Louis.”

My initial thought was, “WHERE IS MY ROOMMATE? HE MUST BE CLOSE BY.”

He wasn’t.

So I did what any normal girl would do. I just stared back at the man blinking, willing him to go away. But it didn’t work. He kept trying to talk to me and I was raised to be polite so I would answer his questions and I’m never smart enough to make up lies about my life so all of a sudden I’m spewing things like, “Oh! I’m a nanny! And oh yes! I am going to a concert! And oh man, this tea place is great! For real! It tastes like COOKIES!” At the very least, I managed to keep ending chunks of dialogue with a pause and a “Soooo….nice to meet you Louis!”

But he didn’t take the hint.

He just said”Yeah!” And stayed there. And talked more.

Over the course of fifteen minutes, I learned that Louis lives in Croton-On-The-Hudson in Westchester. He enjoys his job as a graphics designer of a sorbet company. This sorbet company makes sorbet without using dairy as an ingredient. Even in the chocolate, they use coconut milk! (Granted, this last part, I asked about because, you know, important information and all.) Louis even gave me a coupon for a FREE PINT of dairy-free sorbet which is now tucked safely in my wallet.

I totally freaked out my roommate when he arrived by introducing them energetically. “Roommate! Meet Louis! Louis, roommate!” Louis seemed happy, even when I denied giving out my phone number, sweetly explaining that I just can’t give out my number to anyone who approaches me on the corner of 30th and Madison. I JUST CAN’T. During this last exchange, Roommate was shooting me looks of “YOU SAID SIX MONTHS. SIX MONTHS AND ALREADY YOU ARE PICKING GUYS UP ON THE STREET LIKE A HOOKER?!!?!?!?”

But I wasn’t! Louis was a nice man! But, just, what? Really? Do you really use lines like that to pick up girls!? Especially girls that do not want to be picked up but want to enjoy a green iced tea that tastes like deliciousness mixed with cookies mixed with butter mixed with sparkles and unicorns?!

We talked about Louis all the way to Madison Square Garden and agreed that at the very least, the dude has guts and that is very admirable. Then, later, the Roommate tried to tell me that he only pledged to swear off the Booze until the first snowfall. Despite my protestations that he is a LIAR and a SLEAZEBALL, he swears that that was the original plan and that the “Six Months” rule was all my doing.

For all we know, it could snow tomorrow and then all I have is a drunk roommate on my hands and a coupon for vegan sorbet. It seems highly unfair. But then I went to a concert and screamed my head off and danced my legs off and I rode the subway home with my roommate, our bodies and legs intertwined the entire way home, the comfort of someone who is always close by, rolling their eyes behind someone’s head outside a tea shop.