The Woman Meeting Her Date at a Bathhouse
In this week’s diary, a woman breaks up with one guy and has sex with another in between catering dinner for her private clients: 32, single, Brooklyn.
DAY ONE
8 a.m. I wake up feeling rested and healthy. That’s because I went to bed early last night and didn’t drink any alcohol. Sadly, that’s rare for me. I make a mental note about how much better I feel and wonder if maybe I should stop going out so much.
10 a.m. Drinking coffee while getting some work done. It’s mostly answering emails and a bit of accounting. I have a catering business — I do small dinner parties, corporate functions, and the occasional wedding. This week, I have a few dinner parties to work and some meal prep I’ll make on the side for clients.
Noon. I’ve noticed I’m a little sore in the nether regions today. At first, I thought it was just my underwear irritating me for some reason, but when I go into the bathroom and look, I realize I literally have a small cut on my vagina. It’s bleeding a tiny bit. What happened!? I had sex a few nights ago that wasn’t particularly rough, but what else would it be?
2 p.m. I have to shift my focus towards work. I rent a small commissary kitchen near my apartment, and these are my cooking hours. I need to deliver some meals to a client by 5 p.m.
5:30 p.m. Work is done-ish. I try to remember the sex I had with Andy earlier this week. It was pretty standard sex — could that really have been the source of my injury? Andy and I have been dating for a couple of months. We met at a bar in Brooklyn, and I like him only a little bit. There’s something fragile about him: He’s blond and pale but definitely attractive if you’re into, like, Scandinavian guys. He’s not Scandinavian; he’s from New Jersey.
9 p.m. The soreness is actually kind of bad, so I take a pain-relieving gummy and watch TV until I fall asleep on the couch. Then I make my way to bed.
DAY TWO
6 a.m. Vagina feeling better this morning.
9 a.m. More housekeeping with work stuff. Also, Andy texted about seeing a play together tonight. He’s a playwright — I don’t know why, but I’m not attracted to that career choice, either. Why am I actually seeing this guy? I don’t know. He’s not toxic. It’s fine. My ex, whom I broke up with a year ago, really broke my heart. He cheated on me and really messed me up. I just want to date easy, nice people for a while.
2 p.m. In my kitchen, I start the menu prep for a bigger dinner party I’m catering at the end of the week. The host has given me a few parameters. It needs to be mostly vegetarian, Middle Eastern style, and very Instagrammable. She’s not an influencer, but I think some of her guests are. I can totally work with these directions. I send her a sample menu and hope to hear back today so I can get to work sourcing ingredients.
4 p.m. Fuck! I forgot to text Andy back. He’s waiting to hear about the show tonight. To be honest, my mysterious injury makes me not want to have sex with anyone right now. But I also don’t want to tell him that. I text him that I’ve been slammed with work and can’t make it tonight but want to see him soon. Lots of xoxo’s just to reassure him. We’ve only been dating for a little while, but he likes me a lot and he’s sensitive. I should probably cut the cord soon.
8 p.m. All done with work. Normally, I meet friends at random bars or check out new restaurants at this time of night, but I just want to drink wine and swipe around online. I need new men. Andy and I are not exclusive; we have never had any talk about it. I doubt he’s seeing other people just because he seems pretty into me, but I feel no guilt about it myself.
DAY THREE
8 a.m. I have an event tonight, so it’s going to be a long day. Normally, I don’t do this, but I’m going to the Flower District to gather some florals for the party. The client paid me more to set up the whole scene, so I’m happy for the extra money and don’t mind setting a beautiful table.
11 a.m. On the way back from flowers, I stop for a flat white at a café I like in Flatiron. I check my Hinge and Tinder. There are so many creeps and weirdos on here. For every 200 hard “no”s, there’s one “I guess so, if I’m being super-desperate.” I start chatting with someone from the latter category. His name is Davey, which is a ridiculous name for a grown man. I try to get past it because he’s hot. He suggests we meet up tomorrow for “a cup of tea and a walk?” I don’t know if that’s the most romantic or the most pathetic date I’ve ever been asked on. But he’s seemingly gorgeous and it says he went to Harvard, so I guess I’m intrigued. I say “yes.”
3 p.m. Cooking, cooking. Baking, baking.
5 p.m. I head to the venue to set up this dinner for about 25 people. I’ve hired two assistants to help me prep the food and the atmosphere. I also hired a bartender. We’re playing the new Taylor music and setting up. I love being in the hospitality industry. These are totally my peeps. Beautiful weirdos!
7 p.m. The host is here, and she’s excited about everything. I’m happy she’s happy.
7:30 p.m. Just as the guests arrive, Andy calls. I find this especially annoying. It’s not like he knew I was catering at this exact moment, but his timing is bad and he’s just off. I decide in that moment to stop seeing him.
11 p.m. After a long night, I’m finally on the subway home. I text Andy that I was underwater all day and that I’m taking a break from dating to focus on my next few weeks of work. It’s a bit cold, but I don’t have the energy for more. He can hate me if he wants to.
DAY FOUR
9 a.m. My body hurts from yesterday. I think it was 12 hours on my feet, not sitting for a second.
1 p.m. A quiet day at my little studio apartment. Perfect day to watch some porn and take out my new vibrator … which is when it hits me. It has two branches: One is kind of pointy, and the other is round. A few days ago, I used it with the speed level on high — it was really intense! That must have been what hurt me. It all makes sense now.
3 p.m. A little back-and-forth with Davey. This walk he wants to take is around Washington Square Park. Ugh, cheesy. But what else am I going to do? I decide to go.
5 p.m. I’m sitting in the park waiting for him. He arrives. He’s much shorter than his profile said; in fact, he’s shorter than me. But he’s handsome, in an Oscar Isaac kind of way. I had previously told him I don’t drink tea, so instead he has two cold margarita cans for us. I like this touch.
7 p.m. We are literally dizzy from walking around that park about 600 times, so now we’re sitting on a bench. I’m starving, so I suggest we go to my friend’s restaurant nearby. Davey says he actually has to leave because he has a date. Wow. I appreciate his honesty, but I did not see that coming. We hug good-bye and that turns into a really gentle and honestly pretty arousing kiss on the lips. Then we go separate ways.
10 p.m. I end up going to my friend’s restaurant solo, and after sitting at the bar drinking various cocktails, I’m now quite drunk. I text Davey, “how was your date?” And I get a classic “come over.” Because I think I might like him, I decide to ignore that, make him ache for me, and go home instead.
DAY FIVE
7 a.m. Another doozy of a workday. Why did I drink so much last night?
9 a.m. I have a dentist appointment. I’ve rescheduled twice already, so I force myself to go. No cavities, at least!
11 a.m. A text from Davey, “I guess you are not coming over.” Kind of funny. I send him a picture of a batch of lamb meatballs I’m making since he’s Greek. He hearts it immediately.
3 p.m. I take a break from the kitchen to do a deep dive on Davey. I learn via Google that he is from a family of prestigious doctors; that he’s most likely a secret rich kid. I’m not going to lie … this makes me like him even more. Who doesn’t like money? Come on! We are now texting a bunch, but I’m honestly so busy until next week. I try to find time to squeeze him in.
9 p.m. I look at my phone mid-party, and there’s a text from Andy that is more like a novella. It’s about how mean my text was. He’s really hurt. I’m sorry, but I can’t help but think, What a pussy. I don’t write back. If he writes again, I’ll block him.
DAY SIX
8 a.m. Once again, my body is not happy with me. I take a hot bath with Epsom salts, which is a strange thing to do in the morning. A cup of coffee and the ledge of a bathtub just do not go together. But I do what I have to do.
10 a.m. My mom and dad are stopping by today to bring me a bunch of kitchen stuff they found at a tag sale. They live upstate. We’re really close, so I don’t feel shy telling them I have one hour to hang out but then I have to get to work.
11 a.m. The stuff they brought is actually great — a new mixer, some pretty servingware. We talk about the boys I’ve been dating but mostly gossip about my sister, who is getting married this summer. My parents love their soon-to-be son-in-law, and I’m relieved that they’ll get a wedding and some babies out of one of their daughters because who knows what my future holds.
2 p.m. I carve out ten minutes to finalize a plan with Davey because I really want to see him again. He suggests we go to that Aire Ancient Baths place. That feels a bit too soon, but I’m also curious how he looks in a bathing suit. “Fuck it, why not?” I respond. I’ll have time tomorrow night.
5 p.m. While I’m setting up this party, he sends a confirmation about the baths and adds that he booked us massages there, too. Shit, this guy is definitely rich. I am so into all of this. I’ve never needed a massage more.
11:30 p.m. I get home from work late. I’m so tired. But not too tired to think of a sex fantasy involving Davey and getting myself off. I bet this guy is a fuck machine. Can’t wait to find out!
DAY SEVEN
9 a.m. I was able to sleep in today, so that’s nice.
11 a.m. I have a thousand emails to respond to, and my apartment is a mess. And my commissary kitchen is a mess. So this whole day is dedicated to getting my shit together.
2 p.m. I also have to deliver seven nights of dinner to my superrich client in Cobble Hill. I’ve premade a lot of that, so it’s not too difficult.
4 p.m. Drop off the dinners with the nanny and run to get a pedicure for tonight.
6 p.m. Have a glass of prosecco while I shave my legs in the sink.
7:45 p.m. I see Davey standing outside the bath place. I’m definitely going to ask what else I can call him moving forward. This name will not work for me. Maybe David will be okay with him? Dave isn’t great either.
8:30 p.m. We’re in these steamy baths, and it’s legit sexy. There’s no kissing because other people are around and you don’t want to be a gross couple like that, but there’s a lot of touching. He has a boner, which I feel pressed against my stomach, and it feels big and I’m dying to get into his pants.
9 p.m. Time for our “couples massage.” The whole thing is pretty intense and a little surreal and definitely too soon, but I’m having such a good time.
10 p.m. We had plans for dinner, but instead we go straight to his apartment in Tribeca, near the baths, and get right into it. We have so much sexual chemistry. I haven’t had powerful orgasms like this in … maybe my whole life.
11:30 p.m. He puts me in an Uber, and I tell him that I’m calling him David from now on. He says nobody calls him David. I tell him, “Well, I am not nobody.” Then I take off.
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