Love on 27th Street: I’m a Modern Woman

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A Note from the Director:  Love on 27th Street is a spin-off of our recent column “Sex on 27th Street”. A change in writers of the column has inspired us to expand it to more than just sex, and into love and relationships between lovers, family, friends, etc. Alice Sungurov is our new column writer for Love of 27th Street. Alice will be writing to you on Saturday mornings. 


Okay, so it’s been a minute since I’ve written for this magazine. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I haven’t been writing in general, but when there isn’t a specific deadline, the pressure to write something perfect is gone. Honestly, the break was good for me. During the past four months, I’ve dated a ton. Ironic since we are still in a global pandemic. Don’t worry, I took precautions and got tested regularly, and this chick has been Covid free. 


Anyway, I didn’t have a super deep reason to talk to anyone during the initial lockdown. I dated the last guy, this Moroccan hottie I met in Paris right before I was shipped back to begin quarantine. 


I was fulfilled; I didn’t feel lonely. I freaking loved the lack of worry, needing to make sure I was “maintaining the connection,” like my other friends trying to keep their relationships afloat. Hey, it’s not that I’m a-sympathetic, but the stress of online school and lack of a job alone took too much of my brain’s capacity. 


However, sometimes good things end, and the little voice in my head telling me to get back to the “deli section” before I become a cat lady crept in again. 


In the fall, I accidentally went on three dates with this rando Uber software engineer, who, at the end of our third date, tried to pull the “naked man.” You would think this would deter me from dating. Nah, I went to the shooting range and then got pepper spray. 


I’m a modern woman, what can I say?


From there, I developed a crush on this small-town guy I met while visiting my childhood home, v

ery Hallmark. Nothing happened other than me wanting attention and downloading Hinge. Hey, it’s the app made to be deleted, right?


I’ll end this post by telling you a few articles I have in store for this column:


“Excuses I’ve Used To Avoid Having Sex.”

“How I Saved A $1000 By Dating.”

“Falling For The Wrong Guy”

Etc, etc, etc…