I once went on a date with a man who wouldn’t even pay for my cup of coffee. In fact, I unwittingly ended up paying for his cup of coffee. I was 23 years old, and it was my first date ever. I had been in a relationship with the same guy since high school, way back when things were simple and you didn’t really date, you were just “going out with so-and-so”. When so-and-so and I broke up after I moved away for graduate school, I was stoked. I was in Los Angeles! And it was FULL OF MEN! So you can imagine my dismay when my first date ever turned out to be a disaster.
B. and I had met on an online dating site. We had agreed to meet at a nearby café, which seemed safe enough. I didn’t want to chance dinner, because there’s nothing worse than sitting across from a heinous jerk and watching him eat for 2 hours. Until I knew for sure that he wasn’t a total moron, I fully intended to stay as far away as possible from even the most casual dining establishment.
From the moment we met, the date was horrific. But the most horrific part was not the hideous black and red pleather motorcycle jacket he wore (no, he informed me, he did not ride a motorcycle). Nor was it the fact that he composed music for horror movies that nobody’s ever heard of. No, it was far worse than any of that. The asshole took my five dollars. He went to the counter to order our drinks (basic coffee for the both of us), which he paid for. I, being unsure of proper dating protocol as I was so new to the game, offered to pay him for my drink. I had only a five-dollar bill in my wallet, which I handed to him. He casually stuffed the bill in his own wallet and didn’t offer me change, which I was certainly expecting since my drink was only $2.50. So I essentially bought the bastard a cup of coffee. After I picked my jaw up off the floor, we sat at a table and made small talk, but it was too late; the date was dead. In my opinion, when a man doesn’t pay for a first date, that’s the beginning of the end.
Since then I admit that I have taken up a somewhat old-fashioned approach when it comes to dating. I like to be the one on the receiving end of phone calls, rather than the one making them. I prefer to be asked out by phone or in person, rather than by text-message. I like to have my car door opened for me. And I like my meal, movie or drinks to be paid for—well, at least in the beginning. No, I’m not looking for handouts, and I certainly don’t need anyone to pay for me, but the bottom line is this: I want to be courted. Now there are some that think this style of dating went out with Scarlett O’Hara. I have a dear co-worker who would get irritated with her boyfriend when he would open doors for her. As far as I’m concerned, you had better have sense enough to open that door for me…or that same door will be hitting you in the ass on your way out of my life.
Unfortunately, sometimes I feel that my view of dating contributes to the idea that a woman may not be seen as a man’s equal. When we allow men to open our doors, help us with our coats, and pay for our meals, do we somehow send the message that we’re incapable of doing these things for ourselves? There are many women out there who definitely think so, and insist on being equals in their relationships in every way—including paying for dinner and a movie. When I’m in a relationship, I definitely want to be seen as my partner’s equal. And if I’m not, I can guarantee that I’ll be kicking and screaming to make myself heard as I walk away. So how does one balance this desire to be treated like a lady with the need to be treated like an equal? Does treating a woman in a chivalrous manner set a precedent for inequality later on, both financially and emotionally?
I’ve tried reconsidering my old-fashioned ways, but unfortunately I just can’t seem to let go. Being treated like a lady makes me feel special, valued. Like the pleasure of my company is worth the price of a meal...or at least a cup of coffee. I have no problem pulling my weight after the relationship is established, but until then, I’d better not have to open my own door, or pull out my wallet. And if you take my five dollars, it’s over. For good. And you can take your ugly pleather motorcycle jacket with you.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
I'd rather go blind...than go on a date with you.
Of course, that’s not true. No, I’m not making a mockery out of the blind. But I will no longer turn a blind eye to the douchbaggery that is blind dating. We all dread it; that scenario where one of your well-meaning friends approaches you and excitedly informs you that they know a cute med student/teacher/aspiring film producer/police officer that they’re dying to set you up with. I envision a nation full of eye-rolling singles who have all been subjected to the frightfest that is blind dating.
In all honesty, I’m not opposed to blind-dating myself. In fact, I think I’m more comfortable with blind dating than the whole online-dating business. At least if you’re set up on a date by a mutual friend you know there’s going to be some accountability, and your date will be more likely to leave the monkey business at home where it belongs. However, I know many others who beg to differ. For some, blind-dating is dangerous business.
I’ve actually only been on one blind date, which was arranged by my roommate and her coworker last December. Her coworker said that she knew a great, single guy who’s been trying online dating forever and has been unlucky in love. My roommate immediately suggested that he go out on a date with me, as I, too, have been stuck in a dating rut for the past few years. According to her coworker, J. was quirky (bordering on just plain odd) and funny with a heart of gold. Knowing how much I appreciate guys who are nice and generally weird, my roommate passed along my phone number.
I expected my date to be a freakshow. Another guy to add to the parade of losers that I seem to have a knack for picking up. I was surprised to find that I actually had a wonderful time. He picked me up from my home, which is something you never get to experience when dating online, what with the possibility of your date murdering you and throwing your body in a dumpster behind an elementary school. We had a delicious breakfast at the farmer’s market, followed by a 5-mile walk on the beach. We even spotted dolphins splashing near the shore, as the sun was setting on the water. No shit. Dolphins and a sunset. “It’s a sign!” I thought to myself. We talked about our families, our career goals, and our dating mishaps. He was definitely an odd character, but not odd enough to wear a tinfoil hat and try to contact extraterrestrials. He was just odd enough to make me laugh without creeping me out. The date ended with the customary “I’ll call you soon/let’s do this again sometime.”
So what happened to this Romeo? I’d like to know that myself. We spent a few weeks exchanging long, rambling emails, and feeling frustrated by his lack of follow-through, I bit the bullet and asked him if he would like to get together again. He politely declined, throwing around the excuse of having to work long hours over the holiday season. “Okay,” I replied. “Take care, happy holidays!”
We didn’t speak again after that, with the exception of a very brief email exchange after he stumbled upon my profile on an online dating website. For weeks following this unfortunate episode, I tried to figure out exactly what had happened. The date was great, we had lots to talk about, and we genuinely seemed to hit it off. But at the end of the day, this odd, bearded dude just wasted my time. Imagine all of the things I could have done on that day, when instead I was out on this epic, 6-hour date that never went anywhere. I could have reorganized my closet, or washed my car, or gone Christmas shopping. A whole afternoon, lost! And he couldn’t even man up and be honest about it.
But what surprised me the most about this whole situation was not his lack of follow-through; it was his lack of courtesy. Knowing that we had been set up by mutual friends, one would think that he would have been on his best behavior, considering that there were other people involved. When you’re online dating, things are different. You go out with random people who don’t move within your same social circle, who you’ll likely never see again unless you specifically plan to do so. Therefore, there’s no accountability. If someone decides that they don’t want to see you again, they can disappear into oblivion, never to be seen again, and they can do so without any of the repercussions or potential embarrassment of bumping into that person at a holiday party or something. However, when friends set you up on a blind date, you’re in a way representing that friend. If you act like a dick, you’re not only making yourself look bad, but you’re embarrassing your friend, too, so it’s definitely in your best interest to take the high road and be as courteous as possible throughout the blind-date process.
What determines whether a blind date will be successful? And if a blind date doesn’t go well, or if either party is not interested, what determines how the situation will be resolved? Personally, I feel that this is heavily determined by the degrees of separation between you and your potential date. If this person is a close friend of one of your own close friends, then there will be more accountability. On the other hand, if you’re being set up by a person or people who don’t know you very well (or in my case, my roommate and a coworker that she was not very close with, who also didn’t know me from a hole in the wall), then it’s probably wise to just hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
In many cases nowadays, people don’t even like to get involved in playing Cupid for their friends, because of the possible consequences, such as a nasty breakup. You may just find an angry friend on your doorstep one day, yelling that “…it’s all your fault for setting me up with that moron in the first place!”
Would I ever go on a blind date again? Absolutely, under the right circumstances, and executed by people that I would trust with my life. But for the time being…fuck that mess. I’d rather stay home with my Netflix. I once was blind, but now I see…that blind dates are potentially hazardous to your health.
In all honesty, I’m not opposed to blind-dating myself. In fact, I think I’m more comfortable with blind dating than the whole online-dating business. At least if you’re set up on a date by a mutual friend you know there’s going to be some accountability, and your date will be more likely to leave the monkey business at home where it belongs. However, I know many others who beg to differ. For some, blind-dating is dangerous business.
I’ve actually only been on one blind date, which was arranged by my roommate and her coworker last December. Her coworker said that she knew a great, single guy who’s been trying online dating forever and has been unlucky in love. My roommate immediately suggested that he go out on a date with me, as I, too, have been stuck in a dating rut for the past few years. According to her coworker, J. was quirky (bordering on just plain odd) and funny with a heart of gold. Knowing how much I appreciate guys who are nice and generally weird, my roommate passed along my phone number.
I expected my date to be a freakshow. Another guy to add to the parade of losers that I seem to have a knack for picking up. I was surprised to find that I actually had a wonderful time. He picked me up from my home, which is something you never get to experience when dating online, what with the possibility of your date murdering you and throwing your body in a dumpster behind an elementary school. We had a delicious breakfast at the farmer’s market, followed by a 5-mile walk on the beach. We even spotted dolphins splashing near the shore, as the sun was setting on the water. No shit. Dolphins and a sunset. “It’s a sign!” I thought to myself. We talked about our families, our career goals, and our dating mishaps. He was definitely an odd character, but not odd enough to wear a tinfoil hat and try to contact extraterrestrials. He was just odd enough to make me laugh without creeping me out. The date ended with the customary “I’ll call you soon/let’s do this again sometime.”
So what happened to this Romeo? I’d like to know that myself. We spent a few weeks exchanging long, rambling emails, and feeling frustrated by his lack of follow-through, I bit the bullet and asked him if he would like to get together again. He politely declined, throwing around the excuse of having to work long hours over the holiday season. “Okay,” I replied. “Take care, happy holidays!”
We didn’t speak again after that, with the exception of a very brief email exchange after he stumbled upon my profile on an online dating website. For weeks following this unfortunate episode, I tried to figure out exactly what had happened. The date was great, we had lots to talk about, and we genuinely seemed to hit it off. But at the end of the day, this odd, bearded dude just wasted my time. Imagine all of the things I could have done on that day, when instead I was out on this epic, 6-hour date that never went anywhere. I could have reorganized my closet, or washed my car, or gone Christmas shopping. A whole afternoon, lost! And he couldn’t even man up and be honest about it.
But what surprised me the most about this whole situation was not his lack of follow-through; it was his lack of courtesy. Knowing that we had been set up by mutual friends, one would think that he would have been on his best behavior, considering that there were other people involved. When you’re online dating, things are different. You go out with random people who don’t move within your same social circle, who you’ll likely never see again unless you specifically plan to do so. Therefore, there’s no accountability. If someone decides that they don’t want to see you again, they can disappear into oblivion, never to be seen again, and they can do so without any of the repercussions or potential embarrassment of bumping into that person at a holiday party or something. However, when friends set you up on a blind date, you’re in a way representing that friend. If you act like a dick, you’re not only making yourself look bad, but you’re embarrassing your friend, too, so it’s definitely in your best interest to take the high road and be as courteous as possible throughout the blind-date process.
What determines whether a blind date will be successful? And if a blind date doesn’t go well, or if either party is not interested, what determines how the situation will be resolved? Personally, I feel that this is heavily determined by the degrees of separation between you and your potential date. If this person is a close friend of one of your own close friends, then there will be more accountability. On the other hand, if you’re being set up by a person or people who don’t know you very well (or in my case, my roommate and a coworker that she was not very close with, who also didn’t know me from a hole in the wall), then it’s probably wise to just hope for the best and prepare for the worst.
In many cases nowadays, people don’t even like to get involved in playing Cupid for their friends, because of the possible consequences, such as a nasty breakup. You may just find an angry friend on your doorstep one day, yelling that “…it’s all your fault for setting me up with that moron in the first place!”
Would I ever go on a blind date again? Absolutely, under the right circumstances, and executed by people that I would trust with my life. But for the time being…fuck that mess. I’d rather stay home with my Netflix. I once was blind, but now I see…that blind dates are potentially hazardous to your health.
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