Why You’re Not Getting A Second Date

5 Sep

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That’s right…go take a timeout.

When it comes to dating (and bad dates in particular), I differ to my alter ego “Dr. Overit VanCan’t Anymore.” I wrote an article a while ago about people having a hard time with what’s called, “the let down speech” and why it’s unnecessary and how you look like a real ass-hat when you give people one. I realized recently, after (yet another) horrible date, why those speeches are SORT of necessary. Particularly if the person you’ve gone out with thinks the date was an A+ when really, there’s not a Richter scale level HIGH ENOUGH to accurately depict just how mind-blowingly bad this date was.

Wondering why you don’t get a second date? I have some thoughts.

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

Sweet lord, think about this. If you’re not going to do something cool like suggest we do something that’s out-of-the-box (which is bonus points), think about where we’re going to go to “get to know one another.”

STUPID PLACES:

-Loud bars

-Loud bars on Friday

-Loud bars on Friday at Happy Hour

-What? I can’t hear you over everyone else’s happiness.

-Places with no indoor seating during the sweltering summers. Swamp ass is not the new black.

-Places with no real seating in general. You CAN get seating, but you must spar for it. Madness? THIS. IS. HAPPY HOUR AT A BUSY ASS BAR ON A FRIDAY!

(Oh, going to see a movie is stupid too. But that’s beside the point…for now. For now.

 The whole point of a first date is to talk, right? To figure out if we have enough in common that we find each other attractive beyond the physical attraction we’ve no doubt already decided whether we feel or not.

Fact: Sometimes, the conversation can be so good that it can even (you might want to sit down for this one) outweigh the physical attraction, OR, make you MORE attractive. So don’t be a dummy and take me some place where I can’t determine that. Unless you’re the guy I went out with. Then don’t date anyone again…possibly ever.

NOT SHARING THE CONVERSATION MAKES ME WANT TO KILL YOU. STRAIGHT UP.

Here’s the thing …I’m a talker. But nothing thrills me more than to go out with someone who ALSO likes to talk. Now, when it’s taken to the extreme, and your date doesn’t know when to pass the “talking stick” back to you, things can get ugly. Well, they can get boring and annoying, and can quickly turn into a huge turnoff. If you steamroll* a conversation, I spend that time thinking about what the people around me who are laughing and enjoying themselves are talking about and what you’d think if you could hear how I’m talking about you in my head and how I’ll talk about you to friend’s and family later.

Sometimes I even envision that each time I squint one eye, I’m crushing your head. And you don’t notice, of course, because you’re so into your conversation.

Also, if you say…

“Hey, the part from Dumb and Dumber with Sea Bass is so funny!”

And I say, “Yes, it’s a hilarious part, I’m very familiar with it. One of my favorite movies.”

That DOES NOT MEAN repeat the whole scene word-for-word while I die a little on the inside. I know the scene. I know…the damn…scene.

If you have nothing to bring to the table, conversationally, then just shut it. Let me help you carry the conversation! I would’ve rather sat in silence, then sit there and listen to your mouth move for the sake of moving. Or, you repeat the same questions you asked me on the phone. The very same comments, jokes and observations we’ve already tackled. If you start to feel like you’re on a date with a parrot, you’re doing it wrong.

Share the conversation responsibility to avoid getting yourself into this type of situation. Really, share it. It’ll be fine. Trust me. Otherwise, be known as the guy who could put you to sleep faster than Sleepy Time tea. Who made an IKEA catalog look more interesting and engaging. You were boring, sir. Boring.

Ok – I’ll shut up now…Well, about this.

TOO EAGER FOR THE NO PANTS DANCE

Bless you. You think that after poorly planning a date, putting me to sleep and buying me two beers, that has now granted you the ability to ask me to come back to your place. Because why spend money on more beer, when you have perfectly good beer at your house that we should be drinking on the roof?

Before the first date, getting texts like this has become the (very sad) norm:

“What color underwear are you wearing today?”

“What would you do if I was there with you?”

“I’m not in this for sex. Send me a pic though?”

“Here’s a picture from my arsenal…”

That last one is a picture of their junk. Unsolicited.

If your mind’s telling you yes, but my body (language)….my boooody (language) is telling you NOOOOOO. Take a hint.

It’s rare to go on a date where the end doesn’t involve me explaining I’m tired and can’t go anywhere else tonight because I’m busy doing anything else besides sleeping with you.

So instead, you sneak in an awkward kiss, because you think “I’m totally into you and want it. Badly.”

What do I mean by “awkward kiss?” This actually happened (swear):

Him: “You have something on your mouth.”

Me: “Uh…No, I do not.” (Wiping my mouth profusely)

Him: “Yeah, it’s like a zig-zag.”

Me: “What?”

Him: “A post it note. It’s a post it note.”

Me: “IS THIS YOUR ATTEMPT TO KISS ME?”

Cut to…well, you can imagine.

21 year old Allyson would’ve been totally with it. 29 year old Allyson don’t play that.

Two beers + poor planning x bad conversation= a handshake and a sigh of relief when I get into my car and call my mom crying, to tell her we may be adopting her grandchildren from somewhere outside of my uterus.

Now don’t get me wrong. Sometimes, things happen and you end up partying horizontally. But that’s earned. And rare. Because little comes from succumbing to the no pants dance so early on (I wish I was wrong on that last one, trust me). And it’s not because it wasn’t an upscale location or anything like that. A guy who can make me laugh and whom I have an undeniable amount in common with can sneak right past this. Easily. The guards will look the other way, I assure you. But I can’t remember the last time that happened.

THE TEXTUAL AFTERMATH

Here’s where you straight up annihilate my lady boner. If I’ve only walked from the bar to the car before getting a, “Well, that’s the show!” text… is just… too much. Let me process what happened. Let me figure out if I’m desperate enough to tolerate more of what you put me through that evening. Let me recover from an unwanted kiss and ear assault (you know, you…incessantly talking).

But here is the best part.

The next day, getting a text that says, “Hey. How are you?”

You respond to be kind, but you haven’t texted him since the date. You don’t want to lead him on, or be mean (in person. He won’t read this blog, so…we’re good). So you start to pull away by not responding. Maybe he’ll get the hint? He doesn’t. He continues to text you.

Three days later, with barely any response from you, he sends you another message. “I’ve been thinking about it and I’m really glad nothing else happened between us. I really respect you and think we’d be great friends. I just don’t think there was a spark.”

Eureka.

Can I tell you how annoying this is? I haven’t answered you in three days. I haven’t actively pursued you. I wasn’t thrilled you had your mouth on mine. I had to listen to you yack on about things for HOURS while I sweated on a bench we had to fight to sit on and practically had to beg to get another beer.

What in your mind went right?

 

It’d be a good social experiment to ask those questions, I suppose. Where did I go wrong, that this man thought after three days of radio silence, he should break it off with me.

However, I’m sure with lots of therapy and alcohol…some day…I will get over him.

* Steamrolling in improv comedy is when one person basically doesn’t breathe long enough for you to get a word in and you wind up standing there as a “silent” partner while they command a scene.

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