Dream Lover

March 2, 2000

It’s been two years since I last wrote about Sarah. (The Stoic, Attractive, Relationshipless, And Hungry New York female.) Since my initial critical character sketches of her, my feelings have softened.

It’s tough being a girl in the Big Apple. In addition to the fiercely competitive work environment in which we all struggle, Sarah has to deal with New York men. From the very real catcalling construction workers to the fear-of-commitment guys like myself, navigating the choppy waters of the Dating Straits is enough to make a girl seasick.

But every so often, a true gentleman comes along. A guy who doesn’t swear or smoke or drink too much. A guy who holds the door and calls regularly and shows up on time. A guy who dresses well and pays the bill and keeps his fingernails trimmed. A guy with a good job and set goals and money in the bank. A guy who loves his family and little kids and wants to have some of his own someday with the right girl. A guy who shows a woman respect and kindness and affection.

Just this type of man did my friend Ginger meet about a month ago. He was everything a decent guy should be and Ginger found herself falling in love. He was exciting and warm and ready for a relationship.

The night came when they, without words, decided to take their relationship to the next level. Ginger had never been to his apartment before and she was quite impressed with the fancy elevator in the posh Upper East Side building.

As they got to the door, our gentleman kissed her lips softly and held Ginger close as her knees buckled from a feeling of complete bliss and sweet surrender that she later described as "overwhelming."

"Just a moment," the man said as he reached in his pocket for his keys. Ginger looked at him through drunken eyes, though she hadn’t been drinking. He was a dream. An absolute dream.

So when he pulled out his keys and she saw the little white bunny on his Playboy key chain, she thought she still must be dreaming.

"Is that a Playboy key chain?" Ginger asked, snapping out of her daze.

"Yes it is," the man said without further explanation.

Ginger’s knees straightened.

"I’ve got to go."

She then did an about face, got in the elevator, and emerged with a sigh back onto the familiar streets of Lonesometown.

Broadway Jim Sosnicky

		Dream Lover
		March 2, 2000 It’s been two years since I last wrote about Sarah. (The Stoic, Attractive, Relationshipless, And Hungry New York female.) Since my initial critical character sketches of her, my feelings have softened. It’s tough being a girl in the Big Apple. In addition to the fiercely competitive work environment in which we all struggle, Sarah has to deal with New York men. From the very real catcalling construction workers to the fear-of-commitment guys like myself, navigating the choppy waters of the Dating Straits is enough to make a girl seasick. But every so often, a true gentleman comes along. A guy who doesn’t swear or smoke or drink too much. A guy who holds the door and calls regularly and shows up on time. A guy who dresses well and pays the bill and keeps his fingernails trimmed. A guy with a good job and set goals and money in the bank. A guy who loves his family and little kids and wants to have some of his own someday with the right girl. A guy who shows a woman respect and kindness and affection. Just this type of man did my friend Ginger meet about a month ago. He was everything a decent guy should be and Ginger found herself falling in love. He was exciting and warm and ready for a relationship. The night came when they, without words, decided to take their relationship to the next level. Ginger had never been to his apartment before and she was quite impressed with the fancy elevator in the posh Upper East Side building. As they got to the door, our gentleman kissed her lips softly and held Ginger close as her knees buckled from a feeling of complete bliss and sweet surrender that she later described as "overwhelming." "Just a moment," the man said as he reached in his pocket for his keys. Ginger looked at him through drunken eyes, though she hadn’t been drinking. He was a dream. An absolute dream. So when he pulled out his keys and she saw the little white bunny on his Playboy key chain, she thought she still must be dreaming. "Is that a Playboy key chain?" Ginger asked, snapping out of her daze. "Yes it is," the man said without further explanation. Ginger’s knees straightened. "I’ve got to go." She then did an about face, got in the elevator, and emerged with a sigh back onto the familiar streets of Lonesometown. Broadway Jim Sosnicky