My boyfriend and I have next to no private time. Much to our chagrin we both are currently back in our parent's houses and our date nights generally consist of holing up in his childhood bedroom trying to keep the TiVo at a reasonable volume. Then he got his driver's license. Although this freedom arrived for my suburban friends at around 16, as a native New Yorker being able to drive still seems novel. Clearly we wanted all of our dates thereafter to be road trips.
We thought for our first evening we'd venture out to Coney Island. I had never been, and it seemed there'd be an appropriate balance of kitsch and delicious hot dogs to make for a good time. Naturally our first stop was Nathans. After ordering what seemed like one of everything you can do with a hot dog we settled in at our counter. No sooner had we done this then a young boy who had been stabbed came running in to the open-air restaurant. Panting, he shouted that someone had "knifed" him and that he was being chased. I seemed to be the only one who wasn't aware that this was an everyday occurrence here in South Brooklyn.
Alex and I have been dating for almost four months now. We have
shared several meals and conversations together beyond Casa Mono. As
our relationship has settled into a ‘monogamous’ place, we have both
expressed fears about reaching a ‘monotonous’ place, – when your
boyfriend lives in the same neighborhood, in my case the West side
(Chelsea/West Village), every date begins to take place within a twelve
block radius – emphasizing the potential for “monotony” (not be
confused with monogamy). And, while the dining options are both vast
and enticing, you start to feel like you are placing your relationship
under quarantine.