Bushnell Park lunch breaks and honesty

Twenty-nine, single because I spent my twenties convinced being picky meant having standards. Turns out it just meant being alone a lot. I work downtown near Bushnell Park and eat my sad desk salad there whenever the weather cooperates, which in Hartford is maybe four months out of twelve. I want someone who actually texts back, thinks the Wadsworth is cool without being pretentious about it, and doesn't mind that I own one nice dress and wear it to every occasion. I'm not looking for a pen pal or a situationship. I want dinners where we lose track of time and walk to the car arguing about something stupid.