A Venezuelan, A Nerd and A Jew

This past Tuesday I somehow ended up at a socialista/upper east sider owned magazine party. The invite came from the magazine's owner who I had been working with on an upcoming work event. I asked him if I could bring a "colleague" from the office and in turn dragged my delighted co-worked along. My boss was so excited I was going ("You could really meet someone special at an event like this -- no more internet boys!") that she loaned me all the David Yurman jewelry she had on and told me to go put on some makeup because I looked tired. My co-worker and I headed to the party at 6:20 (fashionable late, of course). After one cocktail (love an open bar, grey goose and soda for free ninety-nine), I started skimming the room for men under 40. "See that cute guy," I asked my co-worker, "the foreign looking one?" She nodded, "I think I heard them speaking French," she said. With this I dragged her to the bar where they were standing: a group of men that were attractive, possibly French, in a sea of mostly socialites, 40s and married, or plastic-surgeried ladies were definitely worth pursuing. Once I had sidled up close enough to slyly listen to their sexy foreign conversation, it turned out they were speaking Spanish! Although I don't speak French, I hablo flirting en espanol enough to make things interesting (what do you think studying abroad is all about? experiencing the "culture"). Learning from experience that my wink is not my best option, I went with the eyebrow raise. Well ladies and gents, that is my new trademark! I got an immediate handshake and a, "Hello, I am Miguel*. This is my friend David*." Well hola Miguel! I introduced myself and my co-worker and exchanged pleasantries which is how I found out he was from Venezuela (oh la la). "Where are you from in Venezuela," I asked Miguel in Spanish. My co-worker rolled her eyes and stood looking annoyed at Miguel's amigo David who was less interesting and attractive. "Soy de Caracas," Miguel answered, "y ahora vamos hablar en espanol." I learned that although Miguel spoke perfect English, he wanted to speak Spanish with me, and even better would love to help me practice my Spanish. At this point my co-worker walked away to send text messages on her i-phone and continue drinking heavily. After hablando en espanol for a bit and him learning where I lived (neighborhood, not exact apartment number), he told me there was a great Venezuelan restaurant near me on East 7th Street and he would love to take me this weekend! Dios mio! Then he got my number and gave me his card and gave me the two besos on the cheek! I was floating -- a lovely South American, how dreamy. But then later, in the cab at 8 pm on the way to Elaine's* birthday dinner at Rissotteria, I reflected on my time spent in South America. How many men had I met and made plans with only to have them turn out to be super flighty, or simply never call at at all? They did not have the best track record. I would give this Venezuelan the benefit of the doubt, but as of now he was penciled in for Saturday, lightly.

Today I decided there is definitely a 5% chance my nerdy work crush has a crush on me too. He sent me an email today and included at the end "thanks for returning my tape." See?? L.O.V.E. Oh, and of course as fate would have it, this afternoon while I was pining away for him, this other guy at work asked me out! I don't really know him -- he works in IT which is on the other floor. I was returning a wireless internet card to him when the awkward interaction occurred. "So, what do you do on Tuesday nights?" he asked. Cue me making an awkward, "uhh, well, emmm...I've been really busy with work events..."
"I wanted to ask because I go to Temple in the East Village. People go and just really chill out and then there is a delicious feast after. I'll send you an email about it."
"Um, thanks!" Has there been some miscommunication? Mazel Tov, but thats not really my scene dude.