After chortling over a received text message with the words: date FAIL!, I thought about what makes for a good date and likewise for the bad. Cleveland Magazine asked me a similarly worded query years (ack, five) ago, and I think it’s still on point. Activity-based dates are still on the top of my list; I still want to do more camping and rock climbing and kayaking… and *sigh* I cannot WAIT for Spring and Summer. But I am equally as excited for good food and a glass of wine because I’m, like, more sophisticated and more conscious of eating well, rather than eating right. And it is a sport watching me polish off all those buffalo wings. Woo!
Catching the drift, Y Chromosomes? ACTIVITIES. This may or may not include slamming beer cans into each others’ foreheads… because, well, there is truly a soul mate for everyone.
And forget about all that pre-date schwag too — teddy bears (oh, I shrieked from horror!), flowers, chocolates, twin brothers… I mean, unless it’s a bouquet of condoms and you expect three rounds of wall sex before we make the reservation. Oh, I have four walls? OK, four-wall sex is fine. We still have 20 minutes.
And seriously? Chocolate-covered strawberries? Surprising me at the bar on girls’ night. Now, that’s just weird.
Nobody likes the word that begins in “pre-” and honestly, the proof is in the finale. I mean, yes, I know you’ve already come… to pick me up, but there are those important things like conversation and laughter (at you, of course) and hopefully a short drive to the date location so I don’t get car sick and… OK, none of that is important.
OK, I lied it is important. I need to know if I need to pack some Dramamine.
We just want to have a good time, alright? Preferably doing something that you pretended not to read in one of those clueless women magazines. Or what your eternally-single 65-year-old Uncle from Poughkeepsie (is that spelled right?) suggested as a “stellar bush call.” Yes. He called it a “bush call.” And not like the recently-ousted President. And probably couldn’t spell “stellar” on paper. All I know is that it sounds perverted and a little too hairy for my preference.
You know, something different. And for the record, strip clubs and threeways are not different.
I’m tempted to use the word “imagination” here, but I almost afraid to discover the results.
Familiar I-will-kick-you-in-the-baby-maker-I-swear Lists (ie: “bad” dates) consist of endings with: tears (real or fake and especially if it involves ex-thoughts), arguments (Bitch! Simmer Down!), drowning (Uh, help?), losing kidneys (And a nice Chianti), or dine-and-dashes. Just me then? Or a handshake. Seriously, I would rather you just punch me in my balls rather than, “Oh, Mel… sweet ass time. See you soon.” *handshake*
Blink. Blink. Look of confusion. Blink. Can I keep the chocolate? Blink.
By the way, I have a horrible dating experience where I canceled via phone for that night while the guy was at the florist picking out flowers for me to present to me on said date. It would have been our second date.
You made that “oooooh” face, right?
Furthermore, I think a good date ends with the following: a) full stomach b) warm, fuzzy butterflies (oh wait, that was the booze? Crap) c) muscle aches or bruises (remember “ac-tiv-i-ties”) d) sex (but definitely not on the first date or a blind date or a combination of the two and certainly no less than 3 or more than 10. Wait. Does that fall under letter c? Whatever, horndogs) and 5) a phone call.
But at least not until I wake up at noon tomorrow.
So, question: what makes a date go well — or not well?
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January 22nd, 2009 at 7:21 pm
Love your list of things that end a good date. Interestingly enough, I find a little “had fun tonite” text either a. incredibly cute (if I’m into the guy) or b. incredibly annoying (if the guy was a doofus). Same exact message. Very different feelings.
January 22nd, 2009 at 8:17 pm
Always a Bridesmaid makes a good point. If I’ve got good chemistry with a guy we could sit and look at each other all night and it would feel like a good date, but if there’s absolutely nothing then there’s probably little we could do that I might enjoy. Except some of those activities …
January 22nd, 2009 at 9:36 pm
“stellar bush call” might be the coolest phrase I’ve heard this decade. I love that guy.
And glad to hear you chortled. It eases the sting of the fake “friend in distress needs a ride home” all or whatever it was.
Yeah.
January 23rd, 2009 at 1:41 pm
“You know, something different. And for the record, strip clubs and threeways are not different”
C) muscle aches and bruises
D) Sex
BOWLING!!! The sexual overtones at the bowling alley are overwhelming, especially in league play where team names like “Hard Knockers”, “Balls Deep”, and “Finger my Balls” are the norm. And I bet that first time out your legs or arm is tired after. Plus apparently you have the pedigree to be a superior bowler
January 24th, 2009 at 11:24 am
You know, it is ALL about the activities. My last boyfriend swept me off my feet, which is a cheesy phrase but completely appropriate, by not telling me anything about what we were doing and kidnapping for the whole day where he drove me to this very far away state park and cooked gourmet grill stuff for me and then fed me alcohol by sunset. Now granted, the surprise thing sucks when the person plans something lame and not for you at all. But then the date would probably not work out anyway. I’m a big fan of the “don’t tell me what we’re doing” strategy.
I’m actually a big fan of the strategy for the entire course of my relationship as well. If I’m not planning it, I don’t want to know about it.
February 6th, 2009 at 6:48 am
I’m wondering if I am the only regular reader of this blog who feels that doing so makes him appreciate his wife and his marriage more every day. Dating, apparently, now sucks, and I don’t remember it sucking this much when I was doing it. I’m beginning to think this blog could be the most fun, least expensive, and most effective marriage counseling I can think of. Thanks Mel.