First dates can be the first steps in a journey of a thousand miles. They can also be the first steps in a journey of however far away your car is parked.
First dates are social appetizers where we attempt to project an image of ourselves that is whatever we think the other person wants to hear. We never take any true risk in our language or behavior. We never reveal our true selves.
Our culture demands time to acclimate to the eccentricities of the intimate personality.
First dates are the “is this person fucking crazy” test. What kind of drink will this person order? Will they talk about flesh wounds? Will they go the bathroom more than five times? Do they like country music?
But the truth is that all of us are crazy, some of us just reveal it sooner. You could even say that sanity is only used to describe those of us that reveal ourselves the slowest. Very few librarians end up in padded white rooms.
But we should just come out with it. We should announce our intentions. We should save each other’s time and get to the heart of things.
It doesn’t have to be like this (apologies for the gender bias):
Question from her: So what do you do in your free time?
What you think: Well, I check my e-mail about thirty-nine times a day, so I do that a lot. Sometimes those emails will lead me to other funny little sites. If I’m at home and my roommates are gone, I might surf for some porn and then you know. After that I usually open a box of Cheez-Its and watch DVRed episodes of The Soup. If I don’t have diarrhea, I may or may not go on a jog. Sometimes, I just sit in my desk chair, strum my guitar and stare at lent on my bedside table.
What you say: I like to workout.
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Question from her: What do you want to do with your life?
What you think: What a bland, generic question. I mean, I really don’t care. I would love to have a job that made me a lot of money even if I didn’t get to see my family that much. I will probably bore of marriage after the kids get older, so if I was in a work setting that had a bunch of young, easy tail that would make my whole search for an affair a little easier. Although I kind of believe in God, I really don’t want to be involved with a church or anything like that. Don’t get me wrong, I like to give homeless people money, I just don’t want to get up on Sundays. Hopefully, I can spend most of my retirement playing golf with my friends and going to strip clubs. We’ll see.
What you say: That’s a very interesting question. I always think about a quote my grandfather told me, “find a girl to love, a house to live in, a family to raise and job that let’s you enjoy those things.” That pretty much sums me up. We’ll see.
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Question from her: What are you going to get to eat?
What you think: Well, I would get the blue burger, but you like the kind that gets offended by meat. I already fucked up and got a beer when you got an unsweet tea so we are already on opposite sides of the beverage issue, which brings to my mind an even greater divide when it comes to the realm of social interaction. I am willing to bet that you are someone who doesn’t drink except on very special occasions, which means that, when you do drink, you get wasted very quickly. This means that if this continues and we get married, every special occasion in my entire life will be marked by a sloppy, light-weight performance by you. When you get drunk you probably like to get on stage and sing. You won’t remember it and I will spend every Sunday after any kind of party telling you that “no one even cared” when I secretly will know that everyone cared and that we can never go back over there again because not only did you embarrass both of us, but when you got on stage to sing “Ice-Ice baby” all you did was incessantly repeat “like a poisonous mushroom – Deadly” and start laughing. So, I guess I’ll just get the nachos because that will at least make you think I have no real respect for my body and hopefully steer you away from wanting anything long term with me, considering I won’t be around to “enjoy” our retirement.
What you say: I’ll have the hummus plate.
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Matt
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