Every man has a list like this, whether he admits it or not. I'd be willing to bet a lot of women do also. Anyway, I need a few more of these to fill out my Bingo board. In no particular order (and if you take this too seriously, well...):
The LES/Williamsburg artsy hipster
Hipsters tends to annoy a lot of people, which means they'd probably annoy me. People who were ostensibly outcasts in high school and now practice a similar kind of (under their breath) gibing elitism so
und downright awful, but the truth is I simply haven't hung out with many. They don't exactly frequent 10021 or 10023 (my only NY addresses so far) very often. So I won't judge. What I do know is that some of these girls are really really good looking. They're skinny, they dress well (ok, except for the ones who wear Hefty trash bags and birthday party cone hats just to be, you know, different), they're ironic, they don't care, and they drink beer because they like it. They also wouldn't be all that impressed with my music collection, even though most rational individuals look at the number of CD binders in my bedroom and immediately recognize I have a consumption problem. Maybe this is part of the reason I want to move to Brooklyn. I'll probably regret it after two nights at Warsaw, when this girl tries to convince me that Matisse's still-lifes are a window into the soul of the pre-post-modernist love for chaos and disorder, or some bullshit like that. While we're at a concert. Still, I'm up for it.
The Frenchwoman
The LES/Williamsburg artsy hipster
Hipsters tends to annoy a lot of people, which means they'd probably annoy me. People who were ostensibly outcasts in high school and now practice a similar kind of (under their breath) gibing elitism so
und downright awful, but the truth is I simply haven't hung out with many. They don't exactly frequent 10021 or 10023 (my only NY addresses so far) very often. So I won't judge. What I do know is that some of these girls are really really good looking. They're skinny, they dress well (ok, except for the ones who wear Hefty trash bags and birthday party cone hats just to be, you know, different), they're ironic, they don't care, and they drink beer because they like it. They also wouldn't be all that impressed with my music collection, even though most rational individuals look at the number of CD binders in my bedroom and immediately recognize I have a consumption problem. Maybe this is part of the reason I want to move to Brooklyn. I'll probably regret it after two nights at Warsaw, when this girl tries to convince me that Matisse's still-lifes are a window into the soul of the pre-post-modernist love for chaos and disorder, or some bullshit like that. While we're at a concert. Still, I'm up for it.The Frenchwoman
Actually, it's kind of amazing this one hasn't happened yet. Not because I'm incredibly charming and all (though I kind of am), but because, as most people who read this know, I am a halfsie. As in, some of my friends still tease me with the "honh-honh-honh" laugh that is supposedly Gallic in origin (ok, it's kinda funny). So 
you'd think this would have happened by now. But there have been some major roadblocks: one, I've never actually lived in France, and two, the French have a very different concept of "dating," which I'm honestly not that familiar with. French women, especially Parisians, have long enchanted Americans with their peculiar brand of smarts, class, and sexiness. Even French men will attest to that. And as well as some women dress in New York, Paris is clearly a step above. Even Manhattanite class comes off as affected and second-rate after a trip to the city of lights. These are facile stereotypes, but the illusion (which is all that counts in the end, right?) is enhanced by all this mythmaking. That said, I'm counting on my fully francophone roommate, O., to help me on this. There are a lot of fellow francais(es) in New York, and he seems to know many. Either way, my dad succeeded here, so I've got it in the blood. Not too worried on this one.
you'd think this would have happened by now. But there have been some major roadblocks: one, I've never actually lived in France, and two, the French have a very different concept of "dating," which I'm honestly not that familiar with. French women, especially Parisians, have long enchanted Americans with their peculiar brand of smarts, class, and sexiness. Even French men will attest to that. And as well as some women dress in New York, Paris is clearly a step above. Even Manhattanite class comes off as affected and second-rate after a trip to the city of lights. These are facile stereotypes, but the illusion (which is all that counts in the end, right?) is enhanced by all this mythmaking. That said, I'm counting on my fully francophone roommate, O., to help me on this. There are a lot of fellow francais(es) in New York, and he seems to know many. Either way, my dad succeeded here, so I've got it in the blood. Not too worried on this one.
You should come visit me so you can see the most astounding genre of woman known to man: the Argentine "rollinga". Yes, Buenos Aires is crawling with androgenous 19 year olds whose only fashion icons are Mick, Keith, Ron and Charlies. It´s something to behold.
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