One of many, many problems encountered with online relationship building is the pre-gaming of the date. There is Extensive conversation surrounding the date before it ever takes place. Fatcat and I went round and round about choosing a date and time that would accommodate my three jobs and both our commutes to meet somewhere in the middle of two different states, not to mention picking a cuisine we both found palatable (tapas, who doesn’t like tapas?!!). In the back of my mind, nagging quietly was the Big Question – would she have her hair cut in time for the date?
I’ll explain – Fatcat included details about her hair in every single email exchange we had. She was dropping hints the whole time about not having ANY plans on the weekend except to get her hair cut. Week after week she was supposed to get a haircut. I took this to mean she needed a haircut. Lesbians like to lay a trail like Hansel and Gretel, follow the crumbs and you may arrive at the point. Y’A outed her game and clued me in to the fact that being forever available on the weekends with nothing more to do than get a haircut was code for ‘ask me out’. Huh?
I arrived at the restaurant and met her at the bar. Walking up to her I immediately noticed a fresh ‘do! The hair had been cut, and styled, and highlighted. It really did look nice and I told her so. We awkwardly made our way to a table, seated by a waitress who seemed to pick up on the date vibe, and commenced to staring at our menus for 20 minutes. That is no exaggeration. Two strangers who cannot negotiate tapas (bad sign, as it is a meal based upon mutual agreement and sharing). I am convinced that at some point during the First Date, you see an entire future relationship pass before your eyes, much like a near-death experience. Your mind speeds through images of years of restaurant sitting, silently studying a menu of which the two of you will never agree.
After 6 weeks of email, I already know her father was an alcoholic, her mother’s in gay denial. These are things you don’t often discuss on the first date, yet through the power of the interweb, we can share intimate details about ourselves without having ever laid eyes on a person. So I’m sitting across a table from someone whose basic stats I already know, along with some deeper private information, and I can’t come up with a goddamn thing to say. I should have prepared better material. My monologue about the new alcohol infused whipped cream draws a pitiful chuckle, most likely because I can barely choke out the words ‘you know, I immediately thought it was for something dirty, you know, like adult fun’. Crash and burn…Who is this person so unfunny, I think. I’m starving and I’ve already finished my first sangria. Y’A’s advice was two drinks max on the first date. Actually, I believe she said one and I made the executive decision to go with two. Despite the minute amount of alcohol coursing through my bloodstream, it was hard to keep the conversation going. I thought back to our emails: her perky tone, her utter excitement at living, her usage of LOL and exclamation points to punctuate each and every random thought. Then it hit me, our real life convo was following the same directionless path as our online correspondence. We have never brought up political affiliation, religion, or dating history. We had never shared opinions about healthcare, Al Gore, or the obesity epidemic. There was nothing of substance in the pseudo-foundation OKC convinced us we were building.
The date winds down. The check has been sitting, unattended, for 10 minutes. No less than three servers have come by asking to take it away. This is the moment of panic because gender roles need not apply. Who will pick up the check? I reach for my credit card and lay it down with the check. She smiled and said ‘let’s split it’. For a moment I am proud of our progress – two women, on a date, splitting the check. How feminist. As we slip into the night and I walk directly to my car, a final hug is offered and received, a bit too warmly, and she proposes another meet up. I slowly nod my head, defeated by online dating.
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