So I've become a bit of a reluctant pro on the art of the first date having been through far too many of them in the last while. I've mastered it all; the greeting, the first impression, the best conversation topics, when to laugh, when to shut up, the ideal outfit choice, the perfectly calculated amount of PDA, when to say goodbye and THE goodbye (by far the trickiest part).
I would love to say that all of these first dates have been perfectly played out exactly how I pictured them in my mind beforehand, with a Bradley Cooper look alike showing up at my door, dressed in ripped denim, a fitted blazer and a sweet pair of kicks, holding a handful of freshly picked lilacs in one hand and the loveliest bottle of Chablis in the other. In my first date fantasy, this perfect man would open every door for me, compliment me on my outfit at least three times for good measure, laugh at all my ridiculously dumb jokes, keep his cell phone off (or at least on vibrate), never brag about how much money he makes, have an infectious smile that makes me giddy, order chocolate fondue without having to ask me, pay the bill without waiting to see if I would offer (because I obviously would...) and end the date with the most delightfully seducing kiss that leaves me wanting more. Oh how fantasy and reality can be so inexplicably uncommon!
Here's the cruel and unsettling reality of the first date... (These are all warning signs/ flashing red lights that should be taken seriously... trust me)
~ He show's up wearing a bejeweled shirt that should never be that tight, GYM runners with jeans and a murse (I cringe even thinking about it)
~ He leaves his Blackberry on the table to check every 3.5 minutes.
~ In an attempt to look 'cool' he insists on going to the grungiest pub for a drink because he knows someone who works there.
~ He tells you he works as an importer/exporter/ business owner/ construction worker or in real estate; He is a drug dealer.
~ He spends over 3 hours bragging about how much money he makes, only to get his credit card declined when paying for dinner (classic!)
~ He acts completely disinterested and too cool for school all night then begs you to come back to his place to 'make out a bit with our clothes on' (his exact words)
~ He gets ridiculously smashed and thinks a swift slap on the ass is a lovely way to end the date (my favorite!)
~ He admits to having some very odd mental issues (not ideal first date conversation)
~ He looks you straight in the eye, gets a very serious look on his face and says "you remind me so much of my ex..."
After dealing with all of these extremely unpleasant scenarios you might assume I have sworn off men for good, bought a dozen cats and an endless supply of cookie dough ice cream and retreated to my apartment to live a solitary and secluded life as an old maid... But no! I still have a microscopic sliver of hope that my charming and witty Bradley Cooper look alike is still out there and if HE slaps my ass, I might let it slide.
