I get bored on first dates. Everyone hedges their bets on a first date. The safest choice is always a drink or a cup of coffee where you can interview each other from an acceptable distance. I don't really mind being direct with people about the things I've experienced and the thoughts those experiences have left me with. But going over the checklist of your life from schooling to the special relationship you have with your grandparents seems like something that would be entirely wasted on a stranger. I'm not sure how the exchange of intimate information is somehow more "safe" than an afternoon making out in a corner booth with someone you only just met.
I used to hate having to make a move on dates. I still think it's preposterous that the man always has to express his desire in physical terms while the woman simply considers her options and then gives the thumbs up or thumbs down. In all the dates I've gone out on over the years, I can't think of a single woman that's ever tried to make the first move with me. I've met random women out at bars or parties who've been the aggressors, but this carries the large social caveat of drunken anonymity. We can always explain away some libidinous activity with an acknowledgement of having been like so wasted.
Going on a date, though, is like engaging in a social contract of sorts. Both parties are subconsciously acknowledging their desire to couple with a partner and agree to consider one another for that position. That's an awful description, but think about the stiff and defensive conversations you've had on some first dates. First meetings and first conversations are always tense and uncertain, bringing out a kind of blunt disregard for manners or a measured conservatism that is about as attractive as a syllabus.
Lately I've begun to use kissing on the first date as a kind of defense mechanism. I hated doing it when I wanted it to be an expression of a genuine interest in another person because it made me vulnerable. I cared too much about the possibility of rejection. I'm not really interested in finding a partner at this point. When I've leaned in to kiss a woman over the last few months I couldn't care less about the possibility of being rejected. It's been more about hoping to avoid another awkward 20 minutes of glory stories from grad school or some co-worker drama. If I'm going to be out there in the world, wading around in a sea of strangers telling slight variations on the same stories over and over again, I might as well be getting off in some small way. I'm emotionally unavailable. It has made me irresistible and reckless indifferent.
Previous Posts:
Nerve Confessions: Rate My Penis Size
Celebrity Confession: Tom Brady's Love Handles
Date Night: The Wine Bar as the End of Civilization
Crying In Public: The Sichuan Night Train
Love machine: How I Date On The Internet
Celebrity Confession: In Which Kevin Spacey Bangs Ass
Sex Machine: Zeitgeisty's Ass Bangin'
Sex Machine: Rate My Blowjobs
Crying in Public: My Cubicle
