I’m so excited to announce my new weekly dating column for WomensHealthMag.com. Check out my first post below!
I’ll never forget my first date in New York City.
I was 19 years old and interning at a women’s magazine, living in my college’s loft at 24th and Park for the summer. I had imagined myself much more mature than I actually was, and because my fake ID (sorry mom and dad!) said that I was 21, I spent a lot of time at bars post-interning hours. It was at some bar in Murray Hill that I met Joseph—a 28-year-old finance guy.
“Hey babe, can I buy you a drink?” he asked, taking a long draw from his Bud Light, sweating profusely through his button-up shirt and looking at my boobs. He was that Northern Italian kind of handsome—thick brown hair, nice skin and an accent so deep I had to ask him to slow down while he was talking.
This post was originally published on WomensHealthMag.com. To read the rest, go here.
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