Single in the City: What Have You “FoodEx’d” to Him Lately?

Single in the City is a weekly feature exploring the random musings and weekly escapades of a single black girl in the city.  Call me Flow Eeezy, an eternal hopeful, a perpetual believer that maybe, just maybe, I could meet that guy: Smart, funny, articulate and principled.  I wonder if I am a member of a dying breed, in this age of the booty call. As we meander through these post-recessionary times, one thing is clear; dating in New York is hard. And harder when you have values, never mind morals. But I am holding out! I’m not perfect, far from it… 

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What Have You “FoodEx’d” To Him Lately?

Chatting with my friend Josey, we drifted to the topic du jour–men. Josey gave a recap of her manfriend Dave, who’s chief prerequisite for dating is the prospect’s ability to cook. Josey and Dave met in San Francisco for what I call an “initial sighting” i.e. boy meets girl for the first time. After she returned to New York, they began long titillating phone episodes, the sort that left her eyes bloodshot in the morning.  After one such episode, Dave, feeling secure after two whole weeks of knowing Josey popped the question… (gotcha! Not what you were thinking)…“Can you cook?” Josey — smitten, unabashed, eager, and by my estimates temporarily insane, announced her culinary expertise. She listed a bevy of complicated dishes that require, chopping, mixing, blending, sifting, frying, steaming, kneading–get the picture?  Dave upped the ante and asked Josey to FedEx a package of her finest cooked goodies. And like a sheep to the gallows, she agreed–the death of her.  Who FedEx’s lasagna, roasted chicken and bok choy 3,000 miles across the country? Nobody, wrong! Josephine (Josey).  Arrgh…why do we do these things?

After Josey’s tale, I began exploring the food FedEx’ers phenomenon–one I desperately hoped was an urban legend. Was I ever so wrong? I spoke to my girlfriends on Wall Street (my first port of call), a lawyer, my trusted hairdresser, the check out lady at my grocery store and the sales lady at a Soho boutique I frequent. All either knew of someone or had themselves express mailed cooked food, to woo some man many miles away. Still unrelenting, I took my mission to the opposite sex, asking a couple of guys I know. Granted, the hit ratio was not 1:1, but I did find two guys who had been recipients of fine cooked food from some woman somewhere…alas, not an urban legend.

As I continued researching food FedEx’ers, the story unfolds out of a towering “prettified” lady I know. A quintessentially manicured lady, the sort that looks like butter could not melt in her mouth. She shared her story of FoodExing an assortment of cooked food to a gentleman based in DC. The unsuspecting recipient having no idea that the food came from a caterer in her Brooklyn neighborhood, invited her to DC for a weekend visit. Suffice to say, all hell broke loose when she showed up in DC and could not belt out the mouthwatering dishes he had become accustomed to. According to her, the guilt she felt and the pressure to perform, caused her so much anxiety that nothing she attempted to cook worked. As if that was not humiliating enough, his plate ultimately ended up in the garbage can. One week later, he broke up with her. Between us girls (shhh), I was surprised he waited a whole week…I’m just saying.

The question Janet should have asked in her hit song “what have you done for me lately?” is “what have you FoodEx’d to him lately?” Still, if you are scratching your head wondering who does this or if you are curled up, too ashamed to confess your FoodEx story, we (the readers and I) won’t judge you. Unless your answer to the question “what have you FoodEx’ed to him lately?” is a “Janet soundtrack”—that we know is far from true. Now, you could FoodEx, FedEx, UPS and DHL some food or you could just feed him microwave popcorn for $1.99, and he would be happy as a clam.  It is no wonder that both Josey and my prettified friend, in their frenzy to please and gratify, lost the ones they so desperately wanted to hold on to. Now that’s food for thought.

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