The Bachelors Guide is written by the Bachelors Girl. I’m always interested to get new leads and hear great (and horrific) date stories, please share them below.


3 Responses to “About”


  1. 1 Somewhat-attached Girl
    September 18, 2007 at 7:24 pm

    Bachelor Gal, Since you’re the restaurant maven, what are your thoughts on Waverly Inn? Do you find it romantic/conducive to stimulating conversation on any level, or just thoroughly disgusting? Interested to know your thoughts…somewhat-attached-girl

  2. 2 Bachelors Girl
    September 23, 2007 at 7:40 pm

    Read the latest note on Waverly! Let me know if you agree!

  3. 3 Somewhat-attached Girl
    October 3, 2007 at 10:00 pm

    Hi Bachelor Gal – I’ve been to the Waverly Inn, and while I thought it was cool that I saw that guy from SNL (though obviously not that cool, nor am I that big a fan, since I only know him as “that guy”), the whole scene did annoy me. Here’s my problem: I consider myself intellectually, if not socially, superior to about 80% of the denizens of popular-only-in-Vanity-Fair-or-with-people-who-work-there hotspots. I show up after a long day of work, and am annoyed that it’s so crowded that we have to wait outside for our table. I almost went nuts being forced to endure a conversation about how many outfits the girl next to me tried on at Coterie that day (Waverly Inn doesn’t provide earplugs to drown out the insipid chatter of morons, unfortunately). That said, I willed myself to handle about 6.2 minutes of it – another quarter second and I probably would have choked the girl with her own lariat or pushed her into traffic.

    The food was ok. I wouldn’t say it stunk, but I woudln’t say I confused it with Le Bernardin or Per Se, either. Besides, I would wager that their patronage is blowing so many rails and avoiding so many carbs that “flavor” is hardly a necessary menu item. For me though, it did just fine, and I would consider going back there if I could show up in force with a group of higher-than-60 IQ friends. I need to be able to somewhat control the dialogue around me to ensure that I don’t have to hear one more word about sample sales, “cool” photographers to work with, or whether Graydon Carter made eye contact with the ninnie to the left of me while she waited for a cab outside of the Conde Nast building one day.


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