50DATESin50STATES: Ohio

It all started with a question: “Is the Fresh Prince episode that makes you cry the one where Carlton gets shot?” asked Ms. Ohio (aka Kristi) in reference to something I’d posted before, when she first contacted me. “Best of luck to you on the date search thing,” she continued, “If you happen to end up near Columbus, OH I have a wedding I refuse to go to alone... I promised my friend that I would attempt to find a date today. That counts as an attempt, right?”

She explained the situation further on the phone. Turns out, at 31-years-old, Kristi’s never taken a date to a wedding. And with most of her friends married, she felt going alone would be a bit on the embarrassing side. Still, she was having trouble finding a suitable candidate in her hometown. Minutes later I was shopping for a new suit. If nothing else, I figured, buying some nice clothes might help me get through this malaise I’ve been feeling lately (really, I’ve been so “blah” I almost abandoned my 50DATES and took a big job at a magazine I know I have no interest in working for, just because).

The shopping made me happy, so I figured what the hell and called the airlines. Soon after, we were face to face.



She’d asked that we not tell people at the wedding exactly how we met. But she didn’t want to lie either. The move, we decided, was to be as ambiguous as possible. Of course, we shouldn't sound like total strangers either. We’d have to know each other well enough to blend. We needed to appear comfortable enough so as not to arouse suspicions. And to do that, we’d have to actually get to know each other.

With just five hours until show time, we went to work:

HER: “I coach a girl’s soccer team, its really fun.”
ME: “These are my favorite jeans. At first when I got them I thought they were too tight, but now they feel too loose. Either I’m losing weight or my testis are changing.”

HER: “The last guy I dated was waiting to go to prison the entire time we were together, but I had no idea until the other day when I bumped into him and he told me he’d just gotten out.”
ME: “The cat I live with makes human-sized poo’s. Do you think I should be worried or just get a larger scoop?”

Ok, so maybe the conversation didn’t go like that, anything like that—it was weeks ago and I’m working from memory—so sue me. Bottom line though: By the time we suited up to go to the wedding, we were having a great time and seemed to know each other amazingly well for a relationship that was only five hours old. Really, quiz me.

Want to know about the last guy she dated?
She met him on a cruise boat.
How about her favorite car?
Volkswagens, cause they’re boxy, but that’s not why her cat is named Jetta.
The burses on her knees?
They’re from soccer. Get your mind out of the gutter. She plays against boys and she kicks ass.

Yup, and I worked all that out between listening to stories about which of her married friends are cheating and with whom, pointing out the “slower moving vehicles on the road” (her driving is a little suspect, but I lived to tell the tale, so I guess we’re cool), taking in a movie (they only cost $1.50 at Columbus' cheap theater) and a visit to my new favorite diner, the one and only Waffle House.







The wedding was fun too. No one gave us too hard a time. She barely cried when they said their vows (I’m grateful, that could’ve been awkward) and we went back for thirds on the cake. It only took two drinks to get her out on the dance floor. And it only took two more to get her off when they played her song “Milkshake.”



By midnight, as the wedding wound down, we were starting to get wound up. We decided to go dancing.

Kristi took me to the clubs her and her friends go to and, loath as I am to admit it, there really weren’t any men for her. Most of the guys there were boys; either still in college or fresh out. I couldn’t believe this was where she liked going... understand this is an attractive, smart, fun, successful woman. She explained that because most people in Ohio get married in their mid-20’s, they stop going out by the time they hit 30. It wasn’t that she was in the wrong bar; if anything, maybe she was in the wrong town. Regardless, we had a good time.

As we ate breakfast on the way to the airport the next day, a part of me wished I had more time to hangout and play.

That’s when the first tears came out. Hers of course, not mine (only the The Fresh Prince of Bel Air makes me mist up). “What, wait, no, what did I do?” I begged.
“Nothing... Everything... Its OK... I’m just... I don’t know when the last time I had that much fun was. Or when the next time will be. I’m 31-years-old and I’m still single. What’s wrong with me?”

It was heartbreaking. After a good-long hug and a joke or two, the tears stopped, but it wasn’t until I sat down on the plane that it occurred to me: What the fuck was she talking about? Did she actually WANT to be one of the couples she’d told me about? It seemed like every story started with “they were high-school sweet-hearts” or “they met right out of school” and ended in “everyone knows he’s cheating but her,” or some equally gross variation. They all got married too young cause, well, probably because everyone else was, and now as they were starting to grow up they were all sleeping around because they didn’t have the balls to remedy a situation they were probably too young to have gotten into in the first place.

Screw that. Kristi’s a catch. Kristi’s waiting for something better. Kristi’s ahead of the curve. And if Kristi’s got the nerve to do it in a place where it’s not all that easy a thing to do, then who am I to cop out on my own life? Why settle for anything less than exactly what we want.

Two dates, two life lessons, and too much fun for words. I’m starting to think this 50DATES thing just might work... for you and me both Kristi... hang in there, we’ll get though it together.

Single, in the Ohio area and want to get in touch with Kristi? Perhaps you’d just like to share some words of encouragement? We’ve set up a special line: kristisoundscool at gmail dot com.

And as always, the lines are still open on the 50DATES. Anyone interested in taking part should send their name, age, working phone number and picture to 50DATESin50STATES@gmail.com. Please be sure to include your hometown, state, nearest airport, any strange or interesting points of interest, a suggestion or two for what we might do on our date and a compelling argument for why you should be the one. When planning our outing though, please keep in mind I’m damn near broke; the opera could be nice, but a picnic and a freak-show would be nicer. See you soon…

NEWS: Nothing to See Here

I’m not all that comfortable taking pictures in disaster areas. I mean, the way I see it, if I’m doing it to document the scene, someone else is probably doing a better job, so what’s the point? If I’m doing it as a tourist, well, that’s just gross. Also, it’s hard to stand passively with a camera when there’s work to be done. Because of this, I only took about 20 pictures in total and promised myself I wouldn’t post any here.

Since returning home though, I kinda wish I’d taken more… the devastation is hard to imagine, but even harder to describe. A visual aid or two wouldn’t be the worst thing.

That said, here goes. Welcome to Biloxi, MS. Sorry to get all serious on you. We’ll be back to our regularly scheduled program ASAP.


These are the markings found on pretty much every building left standing. Get used to them. The letters to the left of the “x” refer to the team that did the search (New York-1). Above is the date it was searched (9/1). To the right are any hazards found inside, this could be anything: leaky gas, explosives, or “dead dogs” as was the case here. And below is the number of dead bodies found inside (0). An empty square above would mean that perhaps the building could be salvaged. This one however is crossed—it will have to be demolished by the owner.


Notice where the gate opens? See the front steps? That’s where this house stood before the tidal surge hit. There’s nothing unique about this situation though, houses along the Gulf Coast were pushed several lots over, or simply exploded, as far as the eye could see.


I’m pretty sure that green building was standing on those cinderblocks before the storm.


Imagine if this was your life…


That tent in the background is where this man is now living. He doesn’t want to leave and who can blame him? This is his property… it’s where his house stood not long ago. PS: This is not the country, this is a city street. The woman with the ice is standing on the sidewalk.


Many interiors of the buildings that remain are covered in mud. Only it isn't mud. It's the same human waste that backed up in the sewers, contaminating the water system. For that reason, and because of the debris, up to date Tetanus and Hep vaccinations are pretty much mandatory.


Again, this isn’t this gentleman’s home, but it’s pretty much the only structure left standing on his block, so it’s where he and his wife took refuge during the storm. The surge brought nearly 9 feet of floodwaters down this block and they were forced to crawl into the tiny unfinished attic (its more of a crawl-space really) as they watched the waters rise. Another foot or two and, with no means of cutting through the roof, they would’ve died.


Left without running, drinkable water, power or food, most of the people in East Biloxi spend their days sorting through the rubble, waiting for help (the government’s been slow in acting round these parts) while doing their best to help themselves.

Want to learn more? I highly recommend checking out my friend Seige’s web-site. His family pretty much lost everything, he… er... he explains it best. CLICK HERE.

Want to lend a hand? I highly recommend checking in with Hands on USA. CLICK HERE.

Last but not least, me and some friends are organizing a super-low-rent benefit here in New York for later in the month. I’ll keep you posted.

Anyway, going was hard, but after 10 days leaving was even harder. I decided step one to feeling normal again was making out with someone as soon as possible…. Which, pretty much leads us to the epilogue.



My flight from Biloxi to Atlanta was pretty uneventful. Atlanta to NYC? Not so much. I was in a window seat with an empty seat next to me. She was in the window directly across with an empty seat next to her. See where I’m going with this? There’s no time like the present: Me and “plane girl” were sitting next to each other before we even pushed off from the gate and began making out just about the time we reached our cruising altitude.

In fact, the whole thing made me so giddy I was convinced I could get the rest of plane to start making out with one another. It didn’t go down like that, but hey, I’m pretty sure I had the women in the row behind entertained.