Single in Sydney’s Sarah goes out with a New York dating doctor
THIS week Sarah takes Single in Sydney on tour to New York, where she ends up topless in a Manhattan restaurant with a ‘sex doctor’ — and it’s nothing like a Hollywood rom com.
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JOURNALIST Sarah Swain has been single (but dating) for longer than she cares to remember. That’s because it’s tough out there, as any single will tell you.
So to bring hope to others across the city, she’s sharing her no-holds-barred adventures on the Sydney single scene every week.
MY NIGHT WITH A NEW YORK CITY ‘SEX DOCTOR’
“HOW much do you love that cardigan?”
I looked down at my black Witchery number which is pretty much my most worn item of clothing.
“Um, well, quite a lot ...”
“Go to the bathroom, take off your top, and come back in just the cardigan.”
“Um, okay, right ...”
When I’d approached a New York ‘sex doctor’ and dating expert called Dr Alex Schiller ahead of a holiday to NYC, I’d expected to get maybe an interview and a few interesting dating anecdotes from the home of Sex and the City and pretty much every rom com ever made.
What I got was a field trip to Alphabet City with just a staple in the middle of my cardigan (thanks to the bar’s stapler) shielding my bra from the world.
And my ‘too high necked’ Kate Spade top wasn’t the only thing Dr Alex made me remove.
She also made me rub off my fuchsia pink lippy and smudge my carefully applied liquid black eyeliner.
“You need to be less cupcake and more seductress,” she said, handing me a kohl pencil and nude brown lipstick before telling me to turn my head upside down to tousle my hair.
She said my look “sends a certain message — it’s like if you walk into a bedroom and you have a Strawberry Shortcake comforter,” she explained.
Now, I should explain Dr Alex isn’t actually a real person.
She’s a character created by performer and writer, Roslyn Hart.
Hart has a show she does as Dr Alex, called Never Sleep Alone.
It’s described as a comedy and music show designed to help people hook up.
“It’s about getting over yourself so you can get under someone else,” she quipped on a TV interview last year.
Clips show a raucous event including audience members snogging on stage.
Sadly I wasn’t in town to catch it.
But I did read the book of the same name on the plane over.
It offers nine principles to follow to “become the one everyone wants”.
Tips includes ditching your cell phone, going to bars alone rather than with a gaggle of girlfriends and constantly seeking out new experiences.
Hart told me: “I was tired of seeing single people out in NYC and wanting to connect and be fearless and sexy, but not knowing how to do that.”
“I might be a fake doctor, but I give real results. Much better than most of the sex gurus and dating coaches out there.
“My program is based on one simple truth: If you’re not happy with your romantic and sexual life, you can’t keep doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.”
I was a bit scared though when she turned up at my Thompson St Airbnb — as herself, not the Dr — especially as she had talked of going for dinner on a Brooklyn rooftop in her text.
Wasn’t that miles away? I know it seemed to be when Miranda moved there on SATC.
Anyway, to start with, we were heading to Alphabet City, she said, home of the musical Rent.
And I’m not sure if it was Hart and her extremely low cut frock (she even had a nip slip at one point) or New York, but I had more attention from men on the walk to the bar alone than I’d had all year in Sydney — and that was before my ‘cupcake’ make over.
“Keep shining girls!” beamed an African American guy as we walked past.
“Hey!” said a fireman with a ‘tache as we walked past the fire station.
A bunch of guys in an SUV hollered at us from some traffic lights, while once we were seated outside the bar, Hart said hello to a pair of guys walking past and invited them to join us.
They didn’t — but she did exchange numbers with them.
It was a revelation!
People actually talking to people! In real life!
Things got better too.
Hart was busily texting all her pals and soon the men started arriving to join us.
“It’s going to be a sausage fest!” she declared.
From the cafe owner to the wine magazine reviewer, the theatre sound guy and the wannabe property developer, the men were chatty and mostly charming.
And when we moved onto a nearby bar, I swapped emails with a few, who were keen to “hang out”.
Hart also promised to invite me to some events over the weekend, when my pals from the UK were due to arrive — this was a Wednesday and the city that never sleeps was actually pretty dead, and we’d missed the Brooklyn party by now.
As I headed home in a yellow cab, I was more excited than Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.
I had two weeks ahead of me in NYC, a new kohl eyeliner and nude lipstick thanks to the 24 hour drugstore on the corner and a credit card for some new low cut tops; Dr Alex’s orders.
Manhattan was mine for the taking — with the emphasis on the MAN.
What I didn’t know as I got into bed (alone) was very soon, my world was about to come crashing down.
Details: neversleepalone.com
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