Today, the weekly blog entry takes an interesting turn. Last week, I teased about writing about women I dated in Manhattan in the 1980's, while I was working on Madison Avenue.
I'm beginning that part of the reminiscence today, but with more of a general outlook on dating and relationships. Just because spring begins today, and there's a lot of thinking and discussion about the subjects swirling around me.
I'm thinking about where I was in 1980, after experiencing my second successful divorce, and having ended a torrid affair with a buxom blond upstate saleswoman who didn't think twice about canceling a date at the last second for a better opportunity. I was relationship-less, having told Hilda that I would not date anyone who treated me worse than I treated myself, and feeling very lonely in my newly adopted city – the one that never sleeps, and will keep you awake letting you know that, just for spite.
But I was in the dream job of my life, and I was surrounded by beautiful, intelligent women, and certainly, it would only be a matter of time before, well, you know.
I had also had a disastrous affair with a blond I worked with, so another rule I established was to never date anyone I worked with. I pretty much stuck to that, for a few years, anyway.
Anyway, to pay off the metaphor in today's headline, I usually chose tropical climate, and, as you might expect, raised quite a few temperatures.
In the advertising business, creatives meet a lot of actors and models. And an acquaintance recently posted a list of reasons to never date that type. I didn't have that list back then, and so, I succumbed.
I dated a couple of actress/waitresses, one of whom was also a lingerie model and had been on screen in a minor sci-fi cult classic, a smart executive who has led the ad research departments of a couple of major national publications, the daughter of the head of a great boutique agency, and others, too numerous to mention right now.
More on each of them, one at a time, in future entries.