We keep walking by delis with their proudest countertop exhibit ever: Time Out's massive survey of single women in New York. Was it a subconscious aversion to the scary jungle of a single lady's psyche, or just the horrendously illustrated cover that turned us off? Perhaps we just couldn't handle the truth. Okay, Time Out. Lay it on us.
The first woman we meet is Monique, 34. She's a freelance events coordinator. So Monique, asks TONY, "Are you into women, men or both? (Monique has short hair.) "I'm into Christ!" Monique replies. We immediately retreat. Christ is okay but that's like answering "Would you like cheese on your burger?" with "No, I'd prefer Christ." It doesn't actually make sense.
The next single laydee we meet is Jessica, 30. She's an all-around artist who lives in the East Village. She believes this: "As a female, you have one of two choices: You can be taken advantage of, or you can take the upper hand and use it as an advantage." We find this sort of Manichean view alarming. Can't we meet a girl who just wants to listen to Leonard Lopate together, have brunch at DuMont, maybe some picnics in the park, and definitely bone all the time?
Kisha, 20, doesn't have time for brothers, Leanna, 25, is a dancer and doesn't have time to hang out, Carrie, 26, believes that sex is something that happens between two married people and she's unemployed. Georgina, 19, advises, "Try and play a part, like hard to get—I mean, you shouldn't play games but don't let a guy know that you really like him, once you know that you have him..." Yikes.
This whole expedition only confirms that single women are crazy. Which leads us to our conclusion: Single women are crazy. Better to go after the married ones.