On Friday evening in a low-lit downtown New York loft with a high ceiling, a couple of dozen streaky-haired women in Diesel jeans and heels greeted their guests of honor. The men arrived in groups of three and five, dressed in Levi's and clean shirts. They were shy at first, a little awkward without their black and yellow uniforms. The girls smiled, the men relaxed and soon it looked like any other party. There was lasagna, chips and not enough Bud beer.
Every couple of nights someone throws a Fireman Appreciation Party. Actresses find local pizza and drink sponsors, and pass out party invitations at the local firehouses. Then they round up their friends, mostly girlfriends -- "You know, for a good ratio," said one host.
Nadia, an actress who lives in the West Village, has already hosted two parties. "Everyone felt so terrible after the 11th," she explained. "My friend said she wanted to do something to raise everyone's spirits. I have a decent size apartment so we decided to throw a party."
The spirit in which these parties were conceived was to give thanks and pass out a little sympathy to a workforce who lost 370 lives on Sept. 11. But then a strange thing happened -- New York women started thinking about firemen in a different way.
"I have a couple of friends I encouraged to come here to meet eligible firemen," said Nadia.
A lot changed on Sept. 11. More than ever, firemen are heroes. While everyone was running away from the towering flames, firemen were racing towards them. And then they died. Maybe you lost someone that day, or else you know someone who lost someone. But if you're a fireman, you lost a chief, a chaplain, a brother, and not just one.
So our hearts are going out to them. And maybe we've had a change of heart in other ways too. Since Sept. 11 women say that the type of guy they want has changed. For some, money is suddenly less important. Among many there is a search for something more meaningful, more compassionate and more giving than before.
Jennifer, a 30-something entrepreneur, is not untypical. After the 11th, I needed someone to hold on to. Someone emotionally available, who I can talk to. My boyfriend seemed way too upset about the stock market. Didn't he get that thousands of people had died? That's when I decided to break up."
In the past New York women might have dallied with a man in uniform, but wouldn't have pursued one. It would probably get old really quickly. He'd take you to some divey neighborhood bar for happy hour. No apple saki martinis, just cheap draft beer. And what the heck would you talk about? There always seemed to be enough investment bankers to pursue.
But lately it seems like every single woman in New York is trying to date a fireman. Anne Brooks, a psychotherapist in Manhattan calls it "the Cowboy Syndrome."
"Firemen today are like the cowboys of yesterday. They're highly principled, and full of heroic machismo. In uncertain times like these, those qualities are extremely attractive."
Maybe we hope that by consoling a fireman we'll console ourselves. But the first step is actually making a date with a fireman. For some women the place to look are the neighborhood firehouse bars.
Other women are heading down to Ground Zero to volunteer.
They stand behind long tables, serving food to New York's bravest. Carla, a talent agent, headed down last week and left with four phone numbers, a marriage proposal and one dust-covered fireman's hat. Some fared even better.
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