I recently had a discussion with a young, eligible “man of” the City. He talked about nostalgia. He did not bemoan the days that you could smoke cigarettes in bars or order a Big Gulp in Manhattan. He did, however, talk about how he could no longer approach a woman on the street in broad daylight in the City. For him, the pick-up represented an opportunity that love could be found near the entrance to the 6 Train or walking down Fifth.
He talked at length about the courage and the confidence it took to approach the attractive stranger. This gave him a thrill. But the thrill is gone.
His eyes six inches from your face have been replaced by any number of smart phones that now shield your eyes from his. We are all guilty of living in our phones, either through vicarious nostalgia–checking out Jenny’s vacation in Hawaii or Sam’s trip to Austin.
The artistry of the pick-up has been replaced by a pretend nostalgia. Yes, we care about Jenny’s trip to Hawaii and we are sure that Sam has never eaten BBQ like they have down in Texas. But that screen in front of our faces might be preventing the eligible “men of” the City from garnering the courage to talk to you and see where it goes.
I hope they still try…
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