Sick Of Swiping Left? Join The Inner Circle This Summer


You need a date, but you’re tired of all that hustle just to end up with someone who’s idea of a romantic night is The Lion King. Seriously, you need an algorithm that works for you as seamlessly as your Spotify. A first date should be like a perfect playlist that takes you on a journey of discovery and familiarity. You know this tune well, and you need to put it on repeat.

Enter The Inner Circle. Thanks to a meticulous selection process, the exclusive dating app offers only the best – and most eligible – singles. With an easy-to-use interface that matches people based on common interests, The Inner Circle provides a safe and simple way to find your soulmate – without having to kiss a ton of frogs along the way.

Unlike other applications, The Inner Circle thoroughly vets each member before giving users the ability to chat with each other directly, so you can see if you have a real connection before taking the next step. Members can filter options through proximity, availability and interests, creating an environment where you can find real potential partners, instead of wasting your time continuously swiping left. With The Inner Circle, you don’t have to click through thousands of profiles – it’s a curated selection of only the best picks.



In addition to its unique approach to matching singles online, The Inner Circle also makes it easier to find love in person. By throwing chic monthly parties, the app gives its members even more chances to make connections in cool and comfortable spaces. While other apps have made dating a drag, The Inner Circle brings class back to dating – both online and IRL.

With The Inner Circle, there’s no need to spend summer waiting for love. It can come to you. You’ve got a beach bod to show off, and the days aren’t getting longer any more. Wedding season may be winding down, but who knows who might be getting married this time next year?


Sign up for The Inner Circle, here.


Single in the City: Looking for Love (Still)

A couple of years ago, I wrote this piece about being single and finding love in the city. It was essentially about me being ready for what I want and knowing I deserved it. I put everything I had been feeling out there and it even got me a couple of dates. Now, almost two years later I am still single. Is your jaw on the ground? Honestly, this fact doesn’t even shock me anymore. However, it does leave me wondering why.

I am approaching the 28th year of my life and I am more open than ever, more awake and attentive to what and who’s around me. So why? Why am I still going through these familiar motions of being available? In a recent conversation with my friend Matt, he stated that maybe I want to be single, or else I’d be trying harder.Ouch. While there is some truth behind that statement, the real truth is, frankly, I am just fucking tired. I guess I’ve faltered a little bit in the past two years.

Right after my first piece was released I started hanging out with a guy who could get away with lots of bullshit because of his ultra-pretty face. This one time, months after we had stopped hooking up, I invited him to a work event, we were after all still friends. We roamed around the Public Theater drinking various cocktails and eating a multitude of food. While sitting in a booth around the time we had each finished our sixth drink, he asked “How do you feel about me?” I paused and thought about my options. I could beat around the bush and lie or I could speak honestly and say that I hadn’t really stopped thinking about him. I chose the latter and spewed my feelings all over that pretty face of his. His response still echoes in my brain when I recall this night: “I feel the exact same way…(10 second pause) about somebody else.” He then proceeded to tell me about this girl he was crushing on. Really? I was dumbfounded as I tossed back another drink and listened to him ramble on. There was really no point in him even posing this question, knowing very well how he felt. Thank god this happened to me and I can laugh about it, because this should cripple the hearts of everyone.

Then there was the office cutie I swooned for everyday until one night he was in my bedroom standing before my eyes and I actually had the balls to tell him: “I feel like I manifested you.” Saying it out loud makes me think that I should probably never say this to anyone ever…but it’s still hilarious. Over the summer I met a really great guy on I made a profile and paid the $30 subscription rate, which allowed me to message people and browse profiles. I thought to myself fuck it and joined for one month. If I want something to happen I have to put in some effort. I ended up involved with this really great gentleman; someone who I actually give credit to breaking me free from past patterns and the same old bullshit (see above). He flipped the switch at a time in my life where I could have still been longing after that office cutie.

I chose wisely and went down a fresh new avenue, never to travel down that beaten path again. He knows perfectly well who he is and knows how grateful I am for this one particular thing. But yeah, in the end it didn’t work out, not because something happened, although does anything really need to “happen” to know someone isn’t for you? We were just passing through each other’s lives and it was as they say, “fun while it lasted.”

I’ve spent the last couple of months focusing on myself and trying to stabilize my life after a summer of traveling, freelancing and changing jobs. And while I once used work as an excuse to not find love, I know this is no longer true. I can’t help but keep wondering about the why. Why am I still single? I have tried! I was a Time Out New York Single! This past weekend I tried Tinder and rejoined OKCupid, all of which lasted about a day. There’s something about being able to rapidly judge someone on looks alone that makes me uncomfortable and decide yes or no with a quick swipe to the left or right. Left for hell no, right for you’re decent. My head just isn’t in the online dating game right now. There are other ways to try.

In the last two years I’ve moved apartments three times. Sometimes we think that we need to get one area of our lives stable before love can find us, or any other part of our lives can work out. Why though? I want to fly, I want to do things and be on the move, why can’t I find someone to join me on my journey through this life? Why can’t we travel together? Why can’t this area of my life be stable and then everything else work out after that? Why is this awesome human being I’m supposed to meet taking his sweet ass time to get to me? Maybe it was the guy who made eye contact with me, when my aura was feeling top notch. Universe, you are killing me. Perhaps the reason I haven’t found someone long term is because I am not supposed to be in New York? Maybe it’s me that has to travel the road and maybe some awesome person is wondering why I am taking so long to arrive. Maybe I should change course all together? New York, am I ready to be done with you? That’s a different story entirely…

Right now though, men of NYC I am out, I am pulsing with the world. I am at a point in my life where I want to feel good, and I have become selective as to how I spend my time, which I am totally OK with. You will probably still find me on a dance floor but you won’t find me clinging to my youth at a loft party that always starts way too late. I told a fellow single friend of mine when she asked me how she could gain confidence and not be afraid of guys. I told her to 1. Figure out why she’s afraid to feel good and 2. Figure out what makes her feel good and do that. When you feel good, things can happen, your perception of what sucks can shift which makes it not so bad.

As this year is rapidly drawing to a close, I am eternally grateful for this all the experiences I have had, what a crazy journey. I remember and say goodbye to some life shifting eye-opening moments and await what lies ahead. The ony thing I know for sure is right here, right now and that whatever is going to happen, let it happen. We are always taken care of. I feel good! I’m still ready. I’m coming for you awesome person!

Ophira Eisenberg on the Merits of Not Getting to Know His Family (Or His Last Name)

In Year 9 (she’s Canadian), Ophira Eisenberg made a Lotus 123 spreadsheet ranking potential candidates to take her virginity. But a few months and one bloody cunnilingus mishap later, she wound up going off-book and lost it to a wild card entrant in a hotel bathroom in Banff. She’s since been with a bassist, a jazz guitarist and an alumnus of a barbershop quartet—although not all at once. There was an improviser, a film critic and a drama student—they had sex dressed as pixies during a production of Midsummer. There was a coke addict, a meth addict, and a guy from Queens with an addiction to stuffed Garfields. She slept with a blind albino who prefaced things with, “I’m warning you, you’re about to see the smallest penis ever.” There was a pastry chef (“His hands were like nothing I had ever experienced before”), a guy who preferred to come whilst having anal beads pulled out of his butthole, and yes, there was at one point a woman.

That said, her memoir, Screw Everyone: Sleeping My Way to Monogamy, is less a book about raunchy exploits than an account of the comedic romance you don’t see in romantic comedies. We get our hearts broken (jazz guitarist, pixie), move to new cities, work shitty jobs (she was a clerk at a waste management plant in Vancouver), and along the way are the stupid rules and games we set up to try and balance our personal ambitions with our desire to feel wanted.

The story ends with a thirty-second marriage ceremony at the city courthouse (you guessed it—she went with the barbershop quartet guy), but she told me recently that along with the love and romance, getting married is like picking the roommate you’ll have for the rest of your life. We should all have the right to get married, but what we do in the meantime shouldn’t be disparaged. There’s a lot to learn in sleeping around.

It never occurred to me that [sex] was for anything other than pleasure—like there was no shame, it was never pathologized, there was nothing dirty about it. But I know it’s not the same as other people. Because other people were raised like it was terrible. That it was a terrible, shameful, horrible act that you better save for one unlucky person.

Is it a generational thing, do you think?
I was a young teenager in the ’80s, and I came of age in the ’80s. And that’s when people were partying, [dancing to] disco, and love was in the air. And historically, the AIDS epidemic really influenced how that generation thought about sex. But I will tell you, by college, a couple of boyfriends who’d mention having sex without a condom—it was like, fine, we’re both going to go get tested. For everything. And that’s what we did, and there was no problem! No one had a problem with it! I guess I just thought that was normal.But in New York, I feel like that’d be a lot to ask of someone—to be like, hey, so we’ve seen each other a few times, clearly you’ve been complaining about the condom, if you want to sleep together again let’s both go get tested and share the results. I mean, I think that’d be the moment where the guy would be like, “Are you kidding me?!”

Was New York discouraging sexually, coming from Toronto?
I was like, “Oh my God, I’m never going to have good sex again.”

What was the main problem?
Detachment. And everyone’s like, “You kind of approached it like a guy.” No. I’m a girl, I was unable to approach it like a guy. Even if it was a physical act, there had to be something happening in that act that connected us. If someone ever turned my head around or whatever—totally unacceptable. I just wasn’t into it. I was like, fuck you, you don’t get that. You want that? Go find some other chick. There had to be something to make it seem fun, even if that was an artificial thing that was only happening in that moment.

With one guy in New York, I did this little artistic act in undoing his pants on the couch, like I was being so spontaneous and cool and on top of it and in-control, and then right afterwards he left. And I thought, “All right, it’s my turn.” And he was like, “See you later sweetheart.” And that emptiness—like, I’m not great with that stuff. I don’t know who is? But I didn’t even know that was possible until it happened, and I was like, okay, that’s not going to happen anymore. But I like the nerdy guys—they had to be smarter than me. So that already takes a huge part of the population out of the running.

There was a headline today in the Observer that said, “Study Finds Xbox Players are Actually Pretty Okay at Sex Stuff.”
I remember being, like, thirteen years old with my niece, who’s older than me, and her boyfriend, at a Stevie Wonder concert, and he said something sexist like, “Ugly girls are really good in bed because they compensate.” What a horrible thing to say. But what he was saying is that the most confident, good-looking person walking down the street might not be. Because they are so involved in themselves. And they never had to develop the skill.

Were there people who surprised you in bed one way or another?
Yeah, that guy who pushed my head down—getting him into bed was a trophy. I couldn’t believe it. He was this good-looking, kind of jock-of-a-guy, very charming. And I’m such a sucker for charm—it’s my weakness. Someone [else might think] that person’s really cheesy, and I go, “They’re magical!” But when he pushed my head down, I almost hit him. And that was it. Then he was one of the ugliest people I’d ever met in my entire life. But there’s that thing where some people are good in bed, some people are bad in bed, and some people don’t work for me. And I don’t work for some people. Like that dynamic, almost chemically or molecularly, just never meshes.

I like the line in the book about how shower sex doesn’t work. I think for it to work there needs to be a weird height dynamic or something.
Right, you need benches and shelves and foot things—if you had a climbing wall on one side of the shower with those little bricks you could put your feet on.

Have you ever been with a guy who’s substantially shorter than you?
I have, yes. I mean, I’m not that tall. But the one I’m thinking of was substantially shorter than me, and it was that thing where it’s like, “Can we do everything lying down?”

Something else you mention in the book is your tendency to meet someone and immediately think, “What would this be like fifteen years down the road?"
Yeah, yeah, I’m not very proud of that—I think it’s a weird, hardwired, evolutionary thing.

But who doesn’t? And most people seem either ashamed to admit it, or they wear it on their sleeve, in which case it’s obnoxious.
I feel like sometimes you just know. There were times where I’d appreciate that, where I’d talk to someone and I would like them, but I would know that the ten years in the future thing—I just couldn’t see it. I couldn’t figure it out. It didn’t make any sense.

And that would keep you from even going with it for a couple weeks?
No, I could certainly do a night. And maybe more than that depending on what was going on. But sometimes that was relieving. When I moved to New York, I thought no one moves here to settle down. Everyone moves here for themselves, so all of us are in the same game. But we still need to be with people—it’s human nature—so there’s going to be this random coupling. But it’s going to be really hard. And that’s when I was like, “I need to take myself out of this thinking because it’s going to drive me insane. I’m going to be depressed all the time and crying.” So, no more of that. But then I liked the thing where I met someone and we would joke and laugh and have a good time, while I’d know that it would never work out in a billion years.

There’s another great part where you’re working at Kinko’s and a co-worker says he likes you, and you ask why and he says, “Because you’re awesome.”
Isn’t everyone primarily driven by some desire to be liked? That’s why people want to be funny, because it’s a gateway to being liked by someone.

Is doing stand-up a good way to get laid?
Oh yeah. Laughter is incredibly seductive, plus you’re up there commanding a stage. [Guys] always have girls coming up to them afterwards—“Hiiiii. You’re really funnnnnny.” Whereas that didn’t really happen to me. It’d always be really weird, like guys would come up and say, “You’re just like me! You’re the female version of me!” What does that mean? That’s so weird. How did whoever I am immediately become all about you?

I think it’s so impressive, by the way, that you wrote a drunk letter to someone.
Before texting! Could you imagine if I had a phone in my hands that could text, what damage I would’ve done? I’m so happy I was born in the time that I was born.

When texting came along, did you ever get into trouble with it?
Not really, because even once people started texting, they weren’t doing it like they do now where it’s basically the number-one way to communicate. It was still the tertiary thing. I think I remember the first time someone texted me “Happy Birthday,” and I thought, “Wow, this is what’s happening.”There’s a story that’s not in the book, but it was a hookup. We met at a bar, and we were both there for birthday parties that weren’t any fun. And we wound up going back to my place, exchanged numbers, but never called each other. But I remember like two weeks later wondering what would happen if I texted that guy. I texted, “Hey, what are you doing?” And in five seconds he was like, “WHERE ARE YOU?” So that’s how that happens. And I’ve gotten those texts that say, “What’s up?” And you think, “Interesting. Yes, it is midnight on a Friday.” At least when you get a letter in the mail, it doesn’t have a time signature on it. It doesn’t say, “This was written at 100 AM.”

There’s an episode of Full House where notable Canadian Dave Coulier—
He’s not Canadian!

He’s not Canadian? Just because he dated Alanis Morissette, people lump him in there?
Yeah, everyone just wants him to be Canadian. Canadians also.

Well, there’s an episode of Full House where Uncle Joey starts doing stand-up, and everyone in the family gets pissed because he talked about them onstage. I know you picked up and moved to New York, but is it still a concern that you’re talking about real people on stage, and now in writing?
It’s a concern. Totally a concern! I don’t know how people will react. Part of me thinks that if they had a big problem with it, I would go, “Hey, listen people—you broke my heart. Or do you want to do a panel? Let’s organize a panel, and you tell your side of the story.” As far as I’m concerned, we ended. I don’t think I gave anyone that unflattering of a portrayal. Maybe the Garfield guy, I said we had terrible sex, but I also mention that he had a huge penis. And I think that would make it fine. He’s like, whatever!

eHarmony Founder Looking to Spend $10 Million to Crack the Gay Code

You know how gay people can’t join eHarmony? Oh, well, I say; we have literally every other dating site (plus a few of our own). But the creators of eHarmony (namely founder Neil Clark Warren, or the seemingly friendly old guy in those commercials) retalliated by creating an LGBT version of eHarmony called Compatible Partners. You see, dudes who like dudes and ladies who like ladies go about everything in a totally different way than normal straight people. Like, for example, gay men just start screwing each other immediately until they get bored after about three weeks, and lesbians pick up U-Hauls on the second date. That’s the kind of thinking, I guess, that is happening at the eHarmony board meetings, and now Warren thinks the company should spend a ton of money to figure out this whole gay business once and for all.

In a video interview with Yahoo Finance web series Off The Cuff (via Beta Beat), Warren goes into detail about what "damaged" his matchmaking company: the same-sex marriage issue. "I’m tired of it," he says. Warren continues, claiming that Christian users were so angry when Compatible Partners was launched (at the behest of the New Jersey attorney general, by the way, who found that eHarmony was discriminating against LGBT users) that the company "literally had to hire guards to protect our lives." (Oh, those Christians! So loving. So compassionate.) 

How can he, the grand master of online dating, fix this problem? Well:

I have said that eHarmony really ought to put up $10 million and ask other companies to put up money and do a really first class job of figuring out homosexuality. At the very best, it’s been a painful way for a lot of people to have to live. But at this point, at this age, I want America to start drawing together. I want it to be more harmonious.

Here’s a suggestion: stop being dicks, for one, and also pull your heads out of your asses and recognize that people who identify as one of the convenient letters that the mainstream press likes to throw around in an effort to be inclusive just want to be included. Because, honestly, people like me have the same desires that straight people have, and the fact that it’s 2013 and I have to type that out for anyone is something that consistently blows my mind. It’s not rocket science! It’s not even math, which is probably why the people who create online dating sites (which match you up based entirely on how one answer questions and curated cultural interests and not because of, say, mutual attraction) have such a hard time seeing it as a fact. 

And while we’re on the subject of eHarmony: the company’s self-reported statistics include claims like the following:

Every day in America, 542 people marry after meeting on — according to the online dating website. That’s 5 percent of all new U.S. marriages. On average, there’s an eHarmony wedding every 2.65 minutes, the company claims.

How the hell does that work? I mean, really: think about it, folks. Is the point of a dating website—any dating website, from eHarmony to and OKCupid—to get you out of the singles game and into a long, lasting relationship? Or is the whole point of an online dating website to make money on its users who eventually return to said site to dip their toes back into the dating pool? It seems like a lot of dating sites haven’t figured out straight match-ups, so I don’t think we need to rack our brains too hard when it comes to finding out how to set up two gay guys or—gasp!—someone who falls under the T category. (But I’m pretty sure there aren’t too many people worried about catering to what seems like a small percentage of the population, right?)

But hey, if they wanna pass $10 million my way for a quick consultation on how to treat gay people with respect and tact, they should totally get in touch.

Follow Tyler Coates on Twitter.

How To Figure Out If You’re Dating the Kid of a Celebrity

Right before Christmas I met a boy in a bar. He was tall, adorable, and we immediately started chatting about music. Before the night came to an end, we exchanged information and he took my phone to add me as a friend on Facebook. When I noticed his last name, one that isn’t very common, I laughed and jokingly asked if he was the son of the celebrity with the same last name. His response was abrupt and strange: “No. I fucking hate that guy.” Um, OK.

The celebrity in question would not evoke such a response from anyone. Unless, of course, they knew him intimately and, for a fact, that he’s absolute shit. His on-air persona, although sometimes aloof and douchy, does not make one hate him. It just doesn’t. It was when I asked him what his dad did a couple weeks later that I was able to know for sure. Even then he didn’t say who his dad was; it was just obvious at that point. Maybe he doesn’t know that his father is pretty much a legend in our generation, or maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck.

I let it go. I don’t care who is father is; it has zero effect on how I feel about him. But some people do care about this shit. True star-fuckers, if they can’t score the celebrity, will take the offspring if they can.

As someone who has more than a few friends who have found themselves dating the kids or step-kids of celebrities, unless the kid is a show-off asshole, it’s virtually impossible to know exactly from where the person came. The only time the truth comes out is when you show up for a family dinner and find yourself across from say, Michael Douglas, and you’re forced to play it cool. Michael Douglas was in Romancing the Stone! You can’t be cool around that!

So, how do you know? Whether it’s for family dinner preparation or because you’re a greedy, gold-digging fame whore, there are five easy ways to figure it all out. Because sometimes Google can fail you in these circumstances, especially when you’re dealing with a family that does everything within their power to keep their lives private. (Oh, the famous and their I’m-so-special ways!)

“I fucking hate that guy.” The last name is a dead giveaway, especially if it’s not common. And if you do what I did and jokingly ask if there’s any relation, not thinking for one second there actually is, and the response is something aggressive out of left field, then, well, you’ve got yourself a celebrity’s kid.

Mannerism dissection. A lot of suspicion can be put to bed if you pay attention to mannerisms. Let’s say you’re dating Jack Nicholson’s kid. Now we all know Jack is known for his eyebrows and that Joker-like, crazy grin (even sans Batman make-up), so a lot of questions can be answered if you focus on these details. You’re not staring; you’re appreciating the similarities.

Mild detective skills. If you don’t know what the hell people are talking about when they mention Benson and Stabler, then you need to watch some episodes of Law & Order to truly grasp this maneuver. Where does this person live that you’re dating? Do they just happen to go on a family vacation the same time [celebrity name] was spotted by the paparazzi at the same place? Is their dad “working” at some concert the exact dates that such-and such-band is playing Coachella?

Is their life one of privilege? In NYC, the privileged are a pretty frequent lot. But there’s also a big difference between the privileged and the very privileged. Does this person in question have things in their apartment that others would kill for—like random photos of his mom at Studio 54 with Halston? Did Nirvana play his twelfth birthday? Can he get you into Per Se tonight at 8 PM no problem?

Straight up insult the celebrity in question. Even if the kid is on the outs with their celebrity parents, they won’t put up with someone else talking shit about their mom or dad. Case in point, as proven by a friend of mine: “I was going on and on about how much of a fucking asshole [celebrity name] is. I was criticizing his movies, his style and even his hair, finally D—snapped and exclaimed, ‘that’s my fucking dad! So keep your opinions to yourself.’ I knew it was just a matter of time before he’d have to give up the goods. And his dad does have bad hair.”

Follow Amanda Chatel on Twitter.

Who Are You Weirdos Going Out for Frozen Yogurt on First Dates?

Dating site How About We breaks down some of the statistics when it comes to dating, particularly the inaugural date: it seems as if millions of single people are meeting up to talk about themselves, learn about each other, and potentially make out—all centered around eating frozen yogurt! This is baffling to me, as I have probably eaten frozen yogurt perhaps three times in my life. (Um, scratch that; I just found one of those punch-cards from a frozen yogurt place in Brooklyn, and I can tell you for certain that I’ve had frozen yogurt four times in my life.) Anyway, frozen yogurt is a hot first-date date. 

According to How About We’s stats:

  • It’s suggested three times more often than the the second most popular dessert, pie.
  • Dates involving fro-yo account for 4% of all dates posted in the “Eat” category on HowAboutWe.
  • About 1 in every 5 foodie dates in Pittsburgh, Seattle & Denver involve the snack.
  • In NYC, it beats out every other food category, accounting for 12% of all food-based dates.

Is this why I was unlucky in love for so long? When I was online dating, the "first date" always turned out to be "the first couple of email exchanges," which was one step in making sure that the person whose self-curated web profile I found so attractive was actually not a total psychopath. The second date, then, was too many drinks and potential (probable) embarrassment. But hey, I am pretty much convinced I was doing it all wrong. This only proves it.

[via The Observer]

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Let’s Talk About Bang With Friends

Do you harbor lustful feelings for acquaintances that you are too afraid or perpetually drunk to properly articulate? Maybe you’re a “nice guy” who wants another semi-accepted outlet for stalking and creepy libidinous frustration? Are you literally too lazy for goddamn OkCupid? Have we got the app for you.

Bang With Friends’ premise is simple: you’re in your twenties and have no idea how to tell someone you want to see their genitals up close. Along come some, er, coders who filch a program that most colleges come up with at some point—check off whom you’re interested in banging from a master list (in this case, among your Facebook friends) and the objects of your desire will do the same (not really; they’re actually out having sex already). If there’s mutual interest, you’re both notified.

Then you Skype naked, I guess, since you’ve got such a problem with real human contact. Anyway, bam! With feature(s) that useless, Bang With Friends is registering five wholly undesirable users every minute! That’s a lot of secret admirers begging to be secretly admired in turn. Man, so many venture capitalists are gonna get burned on this one.    

Follow Miles Klee on Twitter

BlackBook Editors Look for Love, Attend Hipster Shabbats

It doesn’t seem like we have time for anything—at least that’s how it feels for us, sometimes—but when we’re not blogging or interviewing celebrities or putting together fashion shoots, we manage to have social lives, as well. Take our photo editor, Lorenna Gomez-Sanchez (pictured at left) for example: you will recognize her in the pages of Time Out New York this week, as she’s included as one of our fine city’s most eligible single ladies. Meanwhile, I’m off being a Shabbos Goy, bringing Coke cakes and tattered copies of controversial William Styron novels in tow. I know, we can barely keep up with our wild lives, either.

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Win a Date With Marnie Stern!

Marnie Stern, whom you may know best from her 2008 breakout, This Is It and You Are It and So Is That and He Is It and She Is It and It Is It and That is That—oh, how I wish I were paid by the word—shreds harder than just about any living guitarist you care to name. And maybe this once she’ll shred just for you.

In conjunction with the March 19 release of her perhaps more sensibly titled The Chronicles of Marnia, Stern’s label, Kill Rock Stars is running a once-in-a-lifetime promotion. New York dudes with a sense of humor will have a limited opportunity to email her publicist and make a strong case for themselves as potential romantic partner. Marnie goes on an all-expenses date with the winner.

Don’t pass this up guys. We’re talking about a smart, beautiful woman who can rock your goddamn face off. Even an awkward night out together is preferable to another night of intramural skee-ball at your local. Though the questionnaire does ask if you’re on anti-depressants, and to specify which ones. Should have just said: NO CRAZIES. Send entries to

Are you gainfully employed?  Elaborate.
When/how long was your last relationship?
What are your hobbies/interests?
What qualities do you most enjoy in a woman?
List any anti-depressants you currently take:
What do you know about Marnie and why do you want to date her?
What would your most recent ex-girlfriend say about you? Can we get her email?
Where would you take Marnie on a first date and why?

Follow Miles Klee on Twitter