Even in the throes of passion, he’d pause to tidy away the clothes I’d tossed on the floor of his well-appointed Brooklyn loft. I once dated a Virgo who organized his closet so meticulously it looked like the inside of a Ralph Lauren store: Nubby cardigans hung on wooden hooks just so, rows of perfectly worn-in brogues lined the shelves, stacks of polo shirts were neatly folded then colored coded. Known for their inscrutable perfectionism, Virgo might be the most anally retentive sign of the zodiac-as someone whose rising sign is Virgo, I say this with love. Still, true to his well-adjusted Libran nature, he never did let it go to his head. One time we walked into a McDonald’s in the Village, and the entire joint erupted in a chorus of wolf whistles. Men and women would flirt with him shamelessly, then slip their number into his pockets when they thought I wasn’t looking-it didn’t seem to matter that I was standing right there, holding his hand. (Libra is the cardinal of the three air signs, which is bad news for an earthbound bull like me.) Truthfully, the pretty-boy thing did end up being tiresome. “Chioma, that guy is too good-looking for you,” she said, wagging her finger.īelieve it or not, the handsome Libra man didn’t turn out to be such a bad boyfriend, even if long-term romance was never in the cards for us two. My coworker, a plain-spoken Gemini who later ran into us on a date at a now shuttered bowling alley in Union Square, was eager to share her personal thoughts about this too. When he asked for my number at the end of the night, I legitimately thought he was joking. When we met at a fashion party in the Meatpacking District, I remember thinking I’d seen him before- because who would forget a face like that? Then I realized I had actually seen his face, plastered on a billboard for Abercrombie & Fitch overlooking Eighth Avenue. The Libra man I dated in my 20s was tall, dark, and, yes, devastatingly handsome. About a year after that magical date, he sent me a gift that still makes me smile to this day: a ceramic pot modeled after a man’s lower torso with the words “Property of Chioma Nnadi” painted across the butt.
Like most bulls though, he did have a sensational sense of humor. What happened next contradicts everything you’ll read about Taureans: He actually turned out to be sort of a flake. I thought to myself: Does this day really have to end? We passed by his favorite antique store (of course he had perfect taste) and then made a pit stop for coffee. Sitting on the back of this beautiful bike made for two, the wind blowing in my hair, was totally dreamy. Then seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a tandem bike-wouldn’t it be fun to take a ride through Greenpoint at golden hour, he said. One thing led to another, and somehow we ended up goofing around playing target practice with broken pots and BB guns in the back of his studio. In truth, it didn’t start out as “a date” at all: I was interested in buying his ceramics, so he invited me over.
Oddly my first date with this Taurus ranks as one of the best of all time. But in all other things, we were worlds apart. In some ways we were similar: He liked plant pots, yoga, green juice, and sitting under trees maybe more than any other man I’ve met. When I did finally met a Taurus man, it didn’t feel like I’d met my match exactly. Who wants to date somebody with all the same irritating hang-ups as them? The idea immediately struck me as a bit of a snooze. And so, in the spirit of comparing notes-and of course, Valentine’s Day-I’ve cataloged my experiences as they relate to the 12 astrological love matches for my sun signs as described by Goodman.Ī few years back, an astrologer (not Linda Goodman) told me I’d do well with a Taurus.
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