In this week’s story, a musician has casual hookups all over the city before getting overwhelmed and blocking all the women who keep texting him: 35, single, New York.
DAY ONE
8:10 a.m. I work in the music industry, so compared to most people I know, this is a pretty early time to wake up. I’m also sober, so that means I typically go to bed early. It’s been about a year since I stopped drinking — but I’ve quit and started up again many times before — so I’m living in a “one day at a time” philosophy.
10 a.m. Start my coffee ritual. I have a rather in-depth coffee machine from Japan. I like to listen to a little music while I do this, usually jazz or folk or hip-hop. Today, I’m listening to the soundtrack from the show Girls, because I’m composing something for a similar project.
1 p.m. I never look at the apps until the afternoon. They just bum me out. I can lose entire days swiping around, flirting with people I’ll never meet, and now that I’m on so many kinky and sex-positive sites, I find myself jerking off several times a day, which inhibits me from really wanting to go out and see anyone IRL. It defeats the purpose of the entire enterprise in the first place. And yet, I go on the sites.
4 p.m. I’m fucking around on my guitar and working on the Girls-but-not-Girls project. My phone is on silent, but I’m checking it a lot. Today I started talking to a beautiful part-time dominatrix, a self-described “deranged slut,” a divorced mom, an investment banker who looks like Jennifer Aniston, and a bisexual musician who I kind of know from work.
7 p.m. After jerking off twice and ordering in $50 of sushi, I decide that I’m scared of all of them, so I clear the slate and delete or unmatch with all.
10 p.m. I’m rewatching all these Girls episodes and they’re making me depressed, so I go to bed.
DAY TWO
9 a.m. I volunteer at a food bank twice a week. My sister runs the organization, so it’s a good excuse to spend time with her and also do something good for the soul. My family worries about me — 35, in and out of rehab, sex maniac, unlucky in love — so it feels nice to see her, face-to-face, as reassurance that I’m doing okay.
1 p.m. I’m on the subway back home. There’s a woman giving me eyes. I am lucky that women find me attractive. I’m tall, I was an athlete in college, and I still, somehow, look like an athlete. The woman — we can call her B — introduces herself and asks if I know any good bars in Brooklyn. Um, I sure do! Turns out she’s visiting from Austin and wants to have some fun nights out. I tell her that I don’t drink, but I can text her some names of places. She gets off a stop before mine and I say, “See ya later.” So I guess I’ll be doing just that …
4 p.m. Text from T: “Come over and fuck me in the ass, baby.” She texts several times a day telling me she wants to fuck. I met her on the apps last month. She invited me over and we had sex immediately. Like, not even a glass of water first. It was really hot and she’s super-sexual, but after doing that a few more times at her place, I started finding her annoying. We don’t really vibe. She has a strange job in medical sales and on the rare occasions we aren’t fucking, she talks about her work a lot, which is kind of boring. At this point, I respond to one out of every ten texts, but I’d like to ask her to stop talking to me all together. I’m afraid to block her because she’s a loose cannon.
7 p.m. I finish the sushi from last night and ask B if she’s settled into her Airbnb. She writes back that she’s all good and we make a plan to hang out tomorrow, and she signs off with a red-lip emoji.
10 p.m. After Googling B, I’ve figured out who she is — the daughter of a famous tech guy in Silicon Valley. So she’s rich and with daddy issues … interesting.
DAY THREE
9:40 a.m. My manager tells me one of my songs has been licensed for a commercial, which is great news! I do okay financially, but I’m trying to save enough to buy my mom a house. She’s a single mom who raised my sister and me, and I just want to take care of her. All she wants are grandchildren, though. She’ll probably get a house first.
11 a.m. While I wait for the paperwork to come in from my manager, I scroll through the apps. I match with someone named Y who is gorgeous and just my type — curvy, mysterious, just a little bit dangerous. The first thing she wants to know is how big my dick is. I’m not sure how to respond to this. Also, I’m hardly a public figure, but I worry about anything I say or do on here being screenshot. I tell her we can discuss our bodies in person. I add the eggplant emoji but then delete it before I hit send. But, shit, now I want to fuck her. I ask her where she lives, and she’s way uptown. I ask if she wants to meet up, and she says “tonight.” I’m supposed to go out with B. Maybe there’s a way to do both?
4 p.m. Therapy session via Zoom. I like my therapist, but sometimes I wonder if she’s flirting with me. We’re around the same age. Right now, she’s telling me about a band she discovered at a music festival, which just seems strange and not very therapist-like. But she’s really good at her job. I’ve been with her since my last relapse, and so far, so good. I don’t tell her about my two dates tonight. I’m going to sound like a narcissist, but honestly? I don’t want to make her jealous.
6 p.m. I get on the train to meet Y, as I’ve made a plan to meet B much later tonight.
7 p.m. Y’s apartment is a little terrifying. For one, it’s a seventh-floor walk-up. It also has haunted-house energy. But Y herself is beautiful. Candles are burning everywhere. She’s made me a cup of tea since I already told her I’m sober. We have tea on her couch and cuddle up. We both know why I’m there. Suddenly, I’m going down on Y and giving it my all. I’m going for broke down there. She comes on my face (my pants never even came off) and then we hug good-bye and I leave. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s online dating for you.
9:30 p.m. I’m now waiting for B at a bar that I think she’ll like. I order a Diet Coke. I don’t miss drinking on nights like this: I have so much more energy and stamina being sober. But now I’m really horny after the Y action. I wonder what will happen with B …
11 p.m. B is messy drunk. She has a friend with her and they’re looking for blow. I am not sure what to do here, but I have a “no sex with messy drunk girls” policy, so I tell them I’m going home. B tries to seduce me into staying, but I lie and say I have a super-early work meeting.
DAY FOUR
8 a.m. Wake up and jerk off while thinking about Y’s pussy.
10 a.m. I’m recording in the studio today. It will be nice to see the friends I play music with. They’re all married with kids at this point, so there’s a bit of a disconnect, but they’re good guys and good influences on me. Not all musicians are scumbags!
2 p.m. We break for lunch. Someone suggests a Singaporian sandwich shop, and we head that way. Everyone catches up on their personal lives while we walk over. You might think they’d envy the guy who can get laid by another woman every night of the week, but they don’t, and I don’t blame them. Stability is sexy, after all. They know this and I know this. Will I ever get there? Who knows. The food is scrumptious!
6 p.m. B, Y, and T (I hate her) are all texting me. I think I want a clean slate. I start swiping around and ignore all three of them. Yep, this is what a ghoster looks like. Hello, it’s me.
11 p.m. Lost the entire night to the dating apps. I promise myself not to do that again. Dating-app cleanse starts tomorrow.
DAY FIVE
9 a.m. Decide to drive out east today for a day at the beach. I don’t really know anyone who lives out there, hence nowhere to crash, so I’ll just make it a day trip. I’m excited to drive because it means I can’t look at my phone.
11:45 a.m. I’m listening to such a good podcast. It’s a sober celebrity talking about his journey. He sounds just like me, but with money and fame. He’s now married with kids, and I’m feeling inspired.
1 p.m. I’m all set up at the beach. A chair, an umbrella, a good book. I left my phone in the car on purpose. This feels super healing.
4 p.m. I fell asleep! But now I’m ravenous. I know a few little restaurants around here. An ex-girlfriend lived in the Hamptons year-round, so I’m somewhat Hamptons-literate. I gather my shit and go back to the car.
5 p.m. All my zen from the day is erased because there are so many texts from women looking for me, and it feels aggressive. I decide to simply block everyone. At the restaurant, I sit at the bar with a Diet Coke and my book and try to enjoy the rest of my day.
9 p.m. Traffic getting home was a bitch, but I’m here now. I decide to watch Michael Clayton and leave my phone untouched. It’s harder than you’d think. Online dating is addictive, and no one knows that better than me.
DAY SIX
8 a.m. Wake up feeling replenished. Decide to buy a juicer off Amazon.
11:30 a.m. Bills, invoices, accounting, health insurance, and so on. Despite my years of binge drinking and partying, I managed to take care of my finances. Thank God. I know plenty of guys who pissed it all away. I guess I always had my mom in the back of my mind, and all the jobs she worked to keep us afloat, and I just couldn’t disappoint her like that.
4 p.m. Eye-doctor appointment. A beautiful woman sits down next to me in the waiting room. We exchange hellos. I jokingly say, “Come here often?” She smiles and then I see her wedding ring. Damnit.
8 p.m. I go to a Warby Parker now that I have a new eye prescription, but it’s closed. Instead, I sit at a restaurant across the street and order some food at the bar. I turn on the dating apps and start over. I start flirting with this woman, A. She’s British and here for a documentary she’s producing. We make a plan to meet up tomorrow night. She says, “Full disclosure: I’m married but he’s in London and we’re open.” This is pretty standard these days. It’s all good with me, I let her know.
10 p.m. I jerk off pretty intensely to some raunchy porn. I come so hard I need a towel, not a washcloth, to clean up the scene.
DAY SEVEN
9 a.m. Volunteer day with my sis. She’s a lesbian and her dating stories are even crazier than mine. Somehow, we were both born with very high libidos. We tell each other everything without ever talking about the actual sexual details of it all. We’re not total pervs!
12 p.m. I stop by a music store to check out some new gear. I’m going to need a new studio and new setup soon, so I’m calculating what that budget should look like.
4 p.m. Buy myself some new glasses. I purchased a pair that is different from my usual style. When I look at myself in the mirror, I have a brief moment of “Should I change my entire lifestyle?” Like, should I just become a different person? In therapy, we talk a lot about visualizing the future me. It’s always been so unclear what he looks like. It still is … but the new glasses gave me a glimpse of an older, more mature me, and I like him.
7 p.m. A invites me to her hotel because it has a cool bar with good mocktails. I’m not really a mocktail guy, but she’s excited about this for me, so I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I get some pineapple thing. She has a glass of Champagne. Her accent is beautiful. She’s beautiful too.
9 p.m. We’ve ordered some food at the bar, but I’m horny and I let her know. She says she is too. We quickly take a few bites of food and go back to her room. She takes out a condom, which I gladly put on. We fuck all over the room. It’s super hot.
10 p.m. She wants to go again, but I need a little break.
11 p.m. We fuck again. Then I get dressed and go home. Maybe this part of me won’t change after all.
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