Animal Devotion

Popular wisdom says that if you’re looking for a mate here in the Big Apple, having a dog is a good way to attract one. Many stories have been written about the allure of canine-owning bachelors. Having experienced the more complicated aspects of doggy devotion, I’m probably one of the only single women here who would think twice before getting involved again with a guy in the throes of it.

For a year and a half, I dated Shawn—a man who preferred curling up with his two ginormous pets and was not bashful about saying so. Though the experience of having four-legged competition for someone’s affections was a first for me, a little research revealed I wasn’t alone. According to a 2006 LIFE/America Online poll, at least 30% of pet owners spend more time with their pet than with their spouse. A whopping seventy-eight percent of those pet owners said this pattern is true of their loyalties too. More recently, a 2007 American Kennel Club survey found that 15% of pet owners say their significant other has become jealous of their dog.

As my pet-related problems with Shawn reached a fever pitch, I recall him confiding in me about a nightmare that had left him visibly shaken because it was about losing someone he loved. I was moved by his vulnerability—until he added that his fears were about losing the dogs. I knew then that I would always be second fiddle to Fido, that he would be living happily ever after with his poochs and not me.

Ever since our relationship ended, I’ve noticed something about guys and their dogs. Tall men seem to favor small Chihuahua types, while their shorter counterparts tend to prefer larger breeds (my ex is about 5”7 and owns two 60-pound canines, an English Pointer and a Weimaraner). I was surprised, then, earlier this week when I looked up and spotted a tall, handsome man with an equally tall, handsome dog walking toward me.

His dog graciously served as the icebreaker, approaching me in search of a little stroking. I was more than happy to oblige, especially when I noticed the book his owner was carrying—Lauren Weisberger’s current bestseller, “Chasing Harry Winston.” Could it be? I wondered. A cute, single guy so evolved that he reads chick lit and isn’t ashamed to admit it?

“Good book?” I inquired, flashing him my best smile.

“Uh, I don’t know,” he answered sheepishly. “My girlfriend is reading it.”

I chuckled as I walked away. At least this time, barking up the wrong tree had made me laugh.

Girls' Night Out

My evening at Fresco by Scotto restaurant began with a quick drink at the bar. While waiting for my dining companions to arrive, I smiled and listened to the four suit-clad men beside me engaged in cocktails and convivial conversation.

In the space of less than ten minutes, the men had moved swiftly across several subjects -- including salary bonuses, politics and dogfighting. Topics of a different sort characterized the dialogue that unfolded over dinner between me, my good friend Cindy and two longtime friends of hers.

With the dreamy Dali-esque paintings of artist Gregory Drasler surrounding us, talk moved swiftly from Fresco's pricey menu (about $75 per person) to questions about relationships. Should a groom's nuptial toast to his bride be breathlessly romantic or humorously anecdotal? To date or not to date right after a breakup? And just how attracted do you need to be to go out with someone more than once?

"I like him well enough," said one of Cindy's friends, adding that her new guy's lack of height prohibits her from feeling any more than that.

Cindy's other friend seemed unsure what to feel about her recent entre into the social networking universe, where she's encountered more than one old flame. Sometimes even cyberspace can be an unnervingly small world.

All of this girl talk took place between bites of truly delectable Italian fare. My palette was pleased by each of the following menu selections--tuna tartar with avocado, vegetarian pennette in a tomato sauce with mozzarella cheese, and the most divine banana pudding with vanilla wafers, butterscotch sauce and whipped cream. The pudding was so heavenly that it has claimed the fifth spot in my personal pantheon of all-time favorite desserts. Here are the other Top 4:

4. Chocolate mousse at Vivolo's in Midtown. Light yet sinfully rich and satisfying, garnished with a dollop of whipped cream and a strawberry.

3. Key lime pie at Cedar's, Foxwoods, Connecticut. Memorable as much for the slice's gargantuan size as for being the perfect blend of tart and sweet.

2. Chocolate ice cream sundae at T-Bar on the Upper East Side. In two words--pure decadence.

And the most memorable dessert of all time, reigning supreme after more than 15 years...

1. TiramiSu, The Savoy Hotel, Zurich. Literally meaning "pick me up" in Italian, this slice of heaven was introduced to me by a charming maitre'd who spoke five languages fluently. Though I said I had no room for dessert, he insisted I try the TiramiSu. I ended up ordering a second serving and thus, an enduring love affair was born.

Men may come and go, but the pleasure of a good dessert lingers forever!

By The Numbers - Take Two

It occurred to me after publishing yesterday's By The Numbers post that I omitted major mileage in my calculations of romance-related travel. I failed to include nearly 900 miles accrued by a thoughtful old flame who drove a Ryder truck with me from Marion, Illinois to Dover, Delaware during my days as a TV news reporter. In the interest of accuracy, here are the correct totals, with a few related stats added for good measure.

Cumulative Miles I’ve Traveled for Men: 49,156
Cumulative Miles Men Have Traveled For Me: 33,994
Number of Miles Traveled During Longest Road Trip With A Boyfriend: 886
Number of Road Trips Followed Immediately By A Breakup: 2

Happy 4th, everyone!!

A New Chapter

For more than two decades now, I've been keeping a journal. Long before there was a Bridget Jones, or even a Carrie Bradshaw, I was writing about my adventures in and out of the big city, in and out of the dating world. I've filled the pages of more than 90 handwritten journals, resisting the temptation to put down my pen and hit the keyboard instead.

Now, as I hover on the precipice of the big 3-5, I can't help wondering if it's time to supplement my private, portable writings with something in the blogosphere. And so it is that, with some encouragement from several of my fabulous girlfriends, Single Gal in the City is, at long last, making her online debut.

I make no apologies for appropriating my title from that little HBO series that became a cultural phenonemon, and now, one of the summer's hottest movies (with the highest-ever opening for a romantic comedy). Critics and elitist naysayers be damned, Sex and the City - much like Bridget Jones' Diary - resonated with women like myself by portraying with honesty and wit the up's and down's of dating, friendship and big city life--and topping it off with a heavy dose of fashion eye candy.

As for me, I've often joked that my life here in my beloved New York is very SATC - minus the great sex and the great shoes. Like Ms. Bradshaw, I cherish my friendships, adore my city and do a lot of reflecting about the opposite sex. But when it comes to my healthy appetite for both carbs and cosmos, and my penchant for Payless over Manolos, I'm definitely more of a Bridget Jones kind of girl.

One more explanatory note about how Single Gal in the City will unfold - it will be a blog that mingles past and present together. Because I'll be juxtaposing my current-day adventures and reflections with entries from the aforementioned 90+ handwritten journals I've filled. From the ghost of a long-distance love spanning 14 years to the 300 roses I once received from a smitten Englishman, I've experienced some memorable affairs of the heart. I'm looking forward to sharing these adventures from my past, and the ones to come.

--Melissa