Sorry You're New

I never moved growing up; my family has lived in the same house for the last 23 years. Then I went all of 30 minutes away from home to go to the Greatest School Ever. Not until I uprooted my life with The BFF and headed north was I ever the new girl.

Then I came here where I didn't have a sweet clue about anything.

Luckily I met a few amazing people, learned some hard lessons, and gradually became "a New Yorker." (That will probably offend people who have certain exclusive regulations about that title but they can go to hell. I've lived here for three years and get the city.)

And when it comes to girls I know or meet who've just moved here, I LOVE helping them get acclimated. I was there, I know the pain/joy/trauma/excitement of it all.


Me and my new boyfriend. He's new.



Guys, on the other hand, I can't deal with. I have a zero tolerance policy for dating newbies.

Kind of harsh, don't you think? Nope. They're not Real People.

Just the other day I was reminded of this lesson. "He's not a real person? What does that mean?" my mom asked when I gave her feedback about my date. (You know you work in consulting when you just automatically use words like feedback in every day life, vom.)

Well, for starters, he's been sleeping on friends' couches for a month...

And he has no stuff of his own, no dishes, no belongings that make you a dateable adult.

But the most important factor is that he doesn't have his bearings. He has minimal intelligence about how things work here, and no clue how dating works. He's too eager. He's too green. He's just too new.

I'm a firm believer that you need six months under your belt until you think you know what you're doing. Another six months before you actually do.

Dating here is a varsity sport. He's a freshman.

I haven't had much luck finding babysitting gigs in the city. I'm not about to start now. It's just not worth my time.

My name is Rachel and I'm a Dating Snob.