Posts By: Lindsey Gentile

Lindsey Gentile is an actor, writer, comedienne, and all-around gal-about-town who reports from the front lines of single life in NYC. Check out her website HERE. Need more Big City Siren? No problem.

Big City Siren Lindsey Gentile with Red Wine

Big City Siren

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Posted & filed under Dating, Humor.

Too fast? Too Slow? I like it JUST RIGHT.

No, I am not talking about my sexual preferences. Although, it is true that Jack Rabbit sex is never good, and I can only imagine that slow motion sex would be extremely awkward. I’ll try it and get back to you.

No, I am actually talking about my dating life. As you may or may not know, this Big City Siren is back on the market (and at the moment, this particular market feels like a dead smelly fish market filled with rotting sea carcasses…think Chinatown).

One of my main goals for any new dating adventures is to take things at the right pace. For the first time, I am trying to date the right way.

Too Fast

I am used to meeting someone and falling head-over-heels, and then moving in with him within three days. I forget that my friends and my own life exist, and by the time I find out the guy is bat shit crazy (one week later), I am already in too deep. I have to learn how to either tolerate him or try to change him (which never works), and then the whole thing crashes and burns faster than it started. Plus, the ending is a painful, horrible whirlwind, and I want to die. Can you tell that I speak from lots of crash and burn experience?

Too Slow

I recently met someone very sweet and smart. Four points. We met through a good friend. Five points. He had a real job at an awesome company. Three points. He liked to go to fun/non-douchey yet semi-trendy places. Two points. And drink delicious cocktails. Seven points. That is 21 points on the new dating experience scale (no idea how many points are good or bad or what they mean).

We met in late October. I stopped by a bar to say hi and bye to a good friend. He ended up being a good friend of my good friend’s boyfriend. We met, and I was intrigued. He was forward about taking me out to brunch after he got back from a business trip two weeks later. I was into it. I love brunch. We had exchanged numbers, and we had even texted a few times while he was away. But he got back to NY the day before hurricane Sandy, and between me not having power, and the trains not running, and him coming down with some sort of flu, we didn’t see each other again until almost a month after we first met.

The first date went really well. He paid for everything, which I’m not used to. He picked the spot and had a few more places up his sleeve just in case I didn’t like it. He had a great sense of humor and seemed into me. At the end of the night, he walked me home. I was a little nervous. We got to my little stoop and…no kiss. I was leaving town myself in three days, so I wanted to sneak in one more date before I left.

We met two days later for Date #2. We were both more relaxed. We stayed out late because we were both having a great time. He walked me home, I had butterflies…and again NO KISS.

While I was out of town, I heard from him, not a lot, but a few little texts here and there. Then I got home from my trip, he was busy with work, and by the time we saw each other for the third time, it was almost a month after Date #2.

Anywho, Date #3. Here we go! We HAD to kiss. It was almost two months since we’d first met. It was an awesome date, a marathon date. We went to a million different places, and we MADE OUT all over New York. But after that there was another business trip, the holidays, his brother’s birthday, a family wedding. I was over it.

Now, hear me out. I get that we’re both busy, but we had NEVER ONCE talked on the phone, which I think is weird. Really weird. How are you supposed to get to know someone if you see each other every three weeks and there is VERY little communication in between? I need so much more than that.

Waiting three weeks between dates is like driving a huge truck down the center of your relationship. The chemistry dies, and you have to find it again when you finally do see each other. If we had been in contact via the phone, we would have been on a completely different level. It seems like he’s just not that into me, right? Well, a little birdie told me that he was very interested in me, but if that birdie hadn’t told me that, I’d never have known it. Not in a million years.

Just Right

So now I am looking for my Just Right. I want to take it slow in the beginning, but be available and open enough to take it a little faster when the time is right.

Police Car

Big City Siren

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Posted & filed under Humor.

You’re officially a New Yorker when

  • You’ve lived here for at least 8 years
  • You’ve gotten punched in the face by a homeless man (or woman)
  • You’ve gotten hit by a car

I was branded an “Official New Yorker” after checking #3 off my list on Monday.

It started off like any other beautiful fall day. I walked my dog Oliver, went to work, and then took an excellent acting class. I decided to walk home and let the day soak in. I put my phone and headphones away so I could take in the city in silence. Often, New York is so overwhelming that music and cell phones are a nice distraction from the chaos, but on Monday I felt like taking it all in. Just as I was thinking, “God, this city is gorgeous…”

BOOM.

Some dude literally made a left turn into my body. He was busy trying to cut off the guy to his right, and was thus ignoring the pedestrian to his left (me). Serves me right for wanting to take it all in.

He hit my entire right side. I was knocked down onto the street, but I managed to stand back up. I had a few bumps and bruises and a gimpy foot that I must have rolled on my way down. Because I couldn’t tell if the foot was broken or sprained, and I because don’t have health insurance, I went to the hospital on the driver’s dime. Just in case.

Firemen, EMT’s, and police were sent to file the report and carry me around. It was kind of ridiculous, but also kind of hot. I took an ambulance to a hospital 7 blocks from my apartment. The EMT said he’d come to my next comedy show. You know me, always making friends where ever I go.

When we got to the hospital, I gave the EMT a clementine that was in my bag (it was the least I could do) and checked in. The lady at the check-in complimented my recent pedicure, which I thought was sweet. Finally, I was called in to meet a cute Jewish doctor, my mother’s dream. He asked me to take my pants off so he could examine me more closely. I would like to take this time to thank the Randomly-Getting-Hit-By-A-Car Gods for putting decent underwear on me that morning and shaving my legs the day before. Thank you.

All in all, I’m fine. The whole thing could have been much worse. I’m moving slowly, but I’m moving. Although I think New York is a giant asshole for trying to bring me down, I am also really impressed with how efficient everyone was. The driver who hit me pulled over and waited with me, I got a compliment on my feet, and the EMT is a now my Facebook friend.

Look, we live in a big city where anything can happen. So here are a few words of advice from me to you: Always wear cute underwear, get regular pedicures, and be careful out there!

hitler_reincarnated

Big City Siren

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Posted & filed under Humor.

Listen, break-ups suck. They suck when your ex is the biggest asshole in the world because you’re left thinking, Why did I date such an asshole? How could my friends let me date such an asshole? They suck when your ex is the nicest guy in the world because you’re left thinking, How am I going to beat that? They suck when it’s long distance because it’s out of your control. They suck when you break up with him because then you feel guilty. They suck when he breaks up with you because then you think you could have done something better. Any way you slice it, they just suck.

Yes, I’m currently going through break-up number 137, and I have to admit that it’s a rough one. My friends have been amazing, and my family has been incredible, but it’s hard to kick a break-up. I may, though, have finally found something to get me though it. I bring you Cats That Look Like Hitler. Yup, it’s a thing. It puts a smile on my face. It makes me laugh.

So, if you find yourself going through a break-up, check it out: 04kitler

Big City Siren

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Posted & filed under Humor.

This week is a tough week for NYC. No one will ever forget where they were on September 11, 2001. I was in Spanish class at North Broward Prep, and we had a substitute teacher who kept insisting we finish our quiz. I told her to suck it and ran out of the room to call my parents.

My whole family is from Rockaway, Queens. Coming from a family of NYC firefighters, I was very, VERY lucky to not lose a single person to the events of 9/11. My Uncle Mark, Uncle Eugene, and Uncle Jimmy spent months at Ground Zero looking for survivors, saving lives, and witnessing the unimaginable. They are absolute HEROES, and I could not be more proud to be a crazy, dysfunctional Gentile. And yes, we are dysfunctional, but also very entertaining and amazing. For instance, I give you my father:

This week, my parents were also in town to do a 100 mile bike race all over the five boroughs. Since last Thursday, it’s been me, my mom, my dad, their two bikes, my dog, and sometimes my sister in my 300-square foot studio apartment. While they were here, we went to Rockaway to visit my Nana and aunts and uncles, and the seagulls were more aggressive and bigger than ever. Then we saw a man who was making the most amazing sounds as he tried to communicate with them (don’t worry, we got it on film). Rockaway is a special place filled with special people.

BIG CITY SIREN ~ Screen Sorrow

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Posted & filed under Humor.

One of my earliest memories is from 1988. I was in a movie theater in Coral Springs, Florida with my mother and sister watching The Land Before Time. I was so devastated and such a mess when Little Foot’s mother died that my mom had to take me out of the theatre and hold me while the rest of the movie played. Looking back, I’m sure this was the beginning of my mommy issues.

I had the same feeling when Mufasa died in The Lion King, when Bambi’s mom died in Bambi, and when Harry left in Harry and the Hendersons. I’m not sure why on that last one.

Recently the movie, The Life of Timothy Green, had an extreme effect on two little boys. Here is a video of their reaction to the movie.