Erm...

There's been a little shakeup at the offices of DATE (namely, there were a rather inconvenient four days between leases for me), so posts are going to be few this week on DATE. However, we'll return soon with more rip-roaring gigglies to make all your dating dreams come true*.

*Statement has not been evaluated by the FDA...or any other agency, federal or otherwise.

My therapist told my ex to tell my mother...

Thanks for helping to continue to create DATE! Another entry full of strictly pragmatic advice tonight, culled straight from your answers to this week's poll question about certain words you may or may not have ever said on a first date.

Some of you seem as shocked as I am that these words might pop up - but let's be fair, you can't be on your A game all the time if you can barely support the stemware - and you must be very happy daters! The other choices were ex, therapist, mother, and penicillin, and ex and mother had a few takers.

There are some things that should never, ever come up on a first date, and exes, therapists, mothers, and socially communicated diseases take the "did he really just say that!?" cake.

Exes really deserve their own section. Lawdy, lawdy, y'all, it's hard not to take you hard to task for this one. But I've taken a downer and done some yogic breathing, so let's start at the beginning. Exes are exes for a reason. Anytime you go anywhere near this territory, you're breaking the carefully constructed first-date mask: remember, you have no past, you have no bodily functions, and you don't eat onions. You can't put your best foot forward if you're dredging up the cemetery of past loves that blew up in your face. Hmm, probably could have worded that more carefully...

The way to avoid talking about potentially embarrassing things - and, frankly, talking about an ex is kind of like popping a zit at the table - is to focus, focus, focus. She's there - every other lady you've ever bedded isn't... unless you're having a more interesting evening than I've ever had. There are two people you should be talking about on a first date - you and him. Don't talk about your exes, the waitress, the people at the next table, your crazy neighbor with the 47 cats. Just you and her, period. If you're even a half-decent human being, you're going to be compelled to say nice things about your date, and positive communication is the honey (vs. vinegar) of dating.

In addition to not having bodily functions on a first date, you also don't have mommy issues, and so you should never mention either your therapist or your mother. Now, of course, the vast majority of people have mothers and almost as many people have therapists. (Not that I'm suggesting a causal relationship...) Say it with me: if she's not my date, I'm not going to talk about her. No one (well, almost no one) is going to judge you for having a therapist, or even for having mommy issues, but anything you pay someone $150 an hour to listen to is far too intimate for the first date.

And so you shouldn't bring up other doctors either. Don't talk about your plantar's warts or your bunions or your chronic indigestion... and for the love of God(s) and all that is holy, don't say free clinic or penicillin. The human body is a wonderful, terrible, scary thing that tends to fall apart over time, but remember: on the first date, you might as well be made of marble, since kissing's as close as you're going to get, right? You don't have to talk about the crabs you got in Mexico last spring break or anything you've ever gotten stuck anywhere, or anything that involves the words puss or topical analgesic. Even if you have an active STI, you needn't disclose until the two of you have decided that nudity is on the menu. To do otherwise is presumptuous, and might send him running over the salad bar and through the woods.

With positive communication, smiles, and focusing on your date, you can avoid falling down the rabbit hole 1st-date no-no vocab.

So you've been stood up

It's hard not to start this post like one of those pamphlets you pick up in the high school guidance counselor's office. "I've got hair in strange places and my voice cracks as much as my skin - am I a man now?" "My mom wears sunglasses and has lots of coverup - is my dad a bad person?"

There's nothing pretty about being stood up. It's a pretty fantastically awful feeling, getting dressed, rummaging through your bag to find that emergency Xanax, and dragging yourself uptown in heels only to have to switch to vodka tonics after half an hour of picking at lint. The nervousness lasts until 8:06, then turns to that neck-craning anxiety thing until you officially get pissed at 8:16 and start to picture all the wonderful tricks Satan must have up his flaming sleeve for Mr. Very Very Wrong.

If you must, call at twenty minutes after the date was set to begin. Perhaps she really is stuck in traffic or only had forty minutes to save her job and all the mammalian life in the western hemisphere. Perhaps. Don't fly off the handle until you've made the call, if that's what you feel you need to do. It must be said, though, that you should probably save this call for being stood up on something that isn't a first date.

For first dates that people actually want to go on, they will turn away patients, hand in projects early, and clear the traffic on the East Side Highway with their wicked sweet telekinetic powers to get to the rendezvous on time, whereas by the third date there might already be a more lax outlook on punctuality. So make the call if you must, in the event that Sheila, Hot in Argyle is running just a tad behind.

But if it's the first date? Don't bother. The great thing is that, even if you can't stop yourself from calling, if you've been stood up, he's also not going to take the call at 8:20. He's not even going to give you the chance as you make a royal ass of yourself as you instruct him on the exact way you feel he should go about copulating with himself.

As established in the last post, even if her hand was severed in a freak Sea World accident, the onus is still on her to make first contact. She didn't show up - and you've got to accept that. You cannot call after that. You cannot text. You cannot wait outside her door with silly string a bullhorn. You've already watched your good hair and six Jolly Ranchers and what was left of that shiny "she really, really asked me out!" feeling go swirling down the drain, so why, why hand over your dignity on a "your mother was so fat her village ran out of butter on Maslenitsa" text message? (Sorry. Russian joke.)

So you've saved up all your anger and resisted the urge to dial his number. What do you do now? You can't go home. You're going to break your spoon (and possibly your wrist) trying to break into a freezer-burned pint of Cherry Garcia and bust your remote when you play "The Post-It Always Sticks Twice" - for the third time.

No, no, here's where you dig into the Lennon/McCartney songbook for a little advice - get by with a little help from your friends. I have a friend - in fact, a future contributor to this humble blog - with whom I share an agreement: we call each other when dates flake. Instead of venting useless anger at someone who doesn't care that we have it: we holler at the sky with each other about how much people suck, have a coffee, have a smoke, and avoid the pint of misery that's calling our names.

Because the truth is that there are plenty of other great so-and-so's out there who won't make us get all spiffed-up and drugged-out just to develop the nagging feeling that our laughs could beach a baby whale. You'll be okay - if you hold your head really, really high.

Oops.

With all these magnificent dates you seem to be going on lately, there's one scenario we haven't considered yet: the date you want to get out of.

There are so many reasons one might want to get of a date. Oh, I've nothing to wear! Whoops, it seems I've scheduled our tira misu for the same time as my shiatsu. Dog ate your number?

So, what are valid excuses? Let's start right at the beginning. Not having anything to wear, having a less important but less nerve-wracking engagement, and your PDA not reminding you are all terrible, terrible excuses. Plan ahead: pick out an outfit and save it for the date, use your PDA so you don't double book, and leave yourself a post-it on the fridge if you're the type to forget important engagements. Agreeing to a date is a form of verbal contract, and it's one that's so potentially mutually beneficial that you should make it a priority. You are not allowed to cancel a date for any of these reasons. That simple.

You accidentally saw off a limb when your sister mixes big news with power tools. Your mother has a sudden coronary incident while you're driving her home from temple. The moon shifts in the night sky, causing your 24-hour werewolf syndrome to flair up.

All right. Life happens, and so do emergencies. Sometimes you can't call to give reasonable notice because your hand and the cell phone it was clutching are in the belly of a shark. Your date is ordering his second glass of wine, and he's going to really start hating you after half an hour, but there's really nothing to be done - except call when your hand is reattached. Do it - your date, assuming she believes you, will feel silly about cursing you to high Heaven after glass #3, and will more than likely take a rain check.

Ah, but then there's all the things that don't fall into the categories of nerves and life-threatening emergency. I don't want to go into to much detail, lest you start feeling than gnawing, vaguely itching, burning sensation some of us like to call guilt. You know, when you start thinking about how you don't really like the color of her hair or, on second consideration, his once-endearing laugh is really just a soul-crushing cackle. This may come as a surprise, although I hope if you've been keeping up it isn't - anything that happens between the time you say yes to swordfish on Saturday and the time you hand the keys to the valet is much, much to shallow of a reason to call off the date. You've said yes - you've made that contract - and your head isn't going to go flying into orbit if you spend an hour with him and determine that, in fact, his laugh could beach a baby whale.

Or maybe you think it would? You can't stand the thought of seeing the way she cuts her food into individual atoms, but you also can't stand the thought of actually making the call. So you...stand her up? May word spread like wildfire and your armpits be infested with the fleas of a thousand camels if you stand someone up. Letting someone go through the process of getting ready, scrounging at the bottom of their bag for that emergency Xanax and paying through the nose for a cab ride uptown only to discover that their date has gone deaf, dumb, and coward should be a felony. Date unto others as you would have them date unto you.

You know I don't care for rules, but I think a little...standard? of thumb might be in order here. Canceling a date should be like canceling a doctor's appointment: if you can't give 24 hours' notice, you should expect to pay.

How long do I have to wear these pants?

First, my friends, allow me to apologize for the paucity of posts this week on DATE. But trust us, we've been doing research.

Lots of research.

In any event, it's time to answer that most pressing of questions, that dating quagmire which so many enter and so few navigate well: how long until we get to the nookie?

This week's poll asked you when you got naked with a prospective partner (before or on the first date, after the third date, when the time was right, or when that band of gold was inscribed and wrapped tightly around your finger).

Let me say that I'm impressed with this week's answers! Most of you said "if and when the time was right," although, in all fairness, I was kinda lopping you a softball this week.

I was surprised that no one went with "after the third date," since, as I've mentioned, this is one of the magic threes that sneaks its way into our dating culture (the three-day no call and the three-date no *ahem*).

My dear respondents: you appear to be more enlightened daters than the average! However, since this spurious piece of dating advice is still so widespread, it's time to debunk it. Once and for all, let's dispose of the sex after the third date dogma.

First of all, for many people, waiting to do the horizontal samba until after the third date seems like insanity, but they either roll with it because that's what TV and their grandma says to do, or they have sex when they (and their partners) feel like it, and then feel guilty or concerned that they've broken some magical code, a twelve-step plan they feel they should be following to dating bliss.

If I've said it once, I've said it ten thousand times, and I'll say it one hundred thousand more: there is no twelve-step plan to dating bliss. (In case you haven't noticed, you're reading the wrong blog if you're obsessed by meeting Mre. Right tomorrow and need to know how to reel hir in.)

You're looking for specifics, right? First things first, having sex before, on, or after the first date is contraindicated. Not forbidden, not breaking an elusive, ethereal moral or amorous code, just contraindicated. Again, here at DATE we like to give pragmatic advice, and this is more of the same: experience tells us that when you undress on the first date, you don't tend to get called again. Don't ask us why: we have our theories (discussion soon to follow), but this isn't science. It might be a disturbing trend, but it's a trend nonetheless.

So why no callback? Grandmothers (at least the ones who listened to everything their grandmother's said) will say it's because you've shown yourself to be too easy and the other person is going to lose all respect for you. Element of truth? Maybe. But in that case you have to rely on most people being raving hypocrites who want to be unhappy forever. (Element of truth? Good God I hope not.) After all: it takes two to make the mattress creak. If not, you may just have a faulty mattress.

All right, Team DATE, it's not the raving moralistic self-loathing hypocrisy we've learned it was. So what it is it?

The far more likely culprit is that you've tossed aside the need to get to know you better. Having sex on the first date can be a little bit like giving your full curriculum vitae plus family photos of your summers in Kennebunkport and a detailed medical history on the first date. Bottom line: if mutually agreed, there should be a reason for the person to want to see you again, to continue learning who you are and what you're about. You probably wouldn't bring family photos from Kennebunkport on a first date, would you?

Are there exceptions? Lawdy, yes! I stress: sex on the first date is only contraindicated, not verboten, not a sin, and not a 100% fatal error. But you have to acknowledge the risk, which is essentially skipping half of dinner and eating a big bowl of Ben and Jerry's.

And now we join your third date, already in progress. You've been agonizing about the whole sex thing (get off it, you've been thinking about it, and if you haven't been, again, wrong blog) because you know that if sex is going to happen, it's probably going to happen in a couple of hours. You've had two other magical, sparky dates with Mr. Present Tense and now you're ready to find out what he's like between the sheets. After all, you can only talk about Russia's aggressive action in Georgia or plummeting stock prices so long before you turn into a dripping pool of obsessed need. It's the third date, dammit, and it's time to go spelunkin'.

This is pretty nutty, too. It casts a pallor on the rest of the evening, and maybe even everything that happened before it. Sex - and wanting sex - can wrap your brain around its lacy finger and never let go. Psst: you could have done it after the second date if you felt like it.

Let's get real: after the second date, you're already talking to your friends, you start thinking about this person a little bit more often - that is, assuming date number two wasn't a total disaster. After two successful dates, you're not a couple, you're not even "seeing each other," really, but you start thinking ahead to the magical threshold that is the third date.

I'm going to preface my next point by saying that no one should ever take their model for relationships from Woody Allen movies. I think that's self-explanatory, but if it's not, go rent one. Any of them, really. At least the ones he's actually in. Woody Allen only ends up with the insanely pretty girl at the end of the movie because he gets to write the script.

However, there was one time where I think he really got it right (and incidentally, it's a film where he doesn't end up with the pretty girl at the end): walking down a beautiful New York street on his first date with Diane Keaton in "Annie Hall," Alvie (Allen) suggests to Annie (Keaton) that they should kiss now, saying, "We're just going to go home later, right, there's going to be all that tension, you know, we've never kissed before, and I'll never know when to make the right move or anything, so we'll kiss now, we'll get it over with, and then we'll go eat. We'll digest our food better." This is, in my opinion, pretty much the wisest thing a Woody Allen character ever said. (It happens right around the two minute mark in the clip below.)



You'll digest your food better. I'm not kidding. If you want to, forget this nonsense about the third date. It's a silly, moralistic proscription that hardly does anyone any good. You're willing, s/he's willing, so why are you still listening to Aunt Gertrude?

On the other hand, if you're not the kind of guy who brings a condom* to any of your first several dates with someone, you have to feel fine with that, too. Sex is one of trickiest parts of dating, and I'm talking even before it happens. Two (or more) people have to agree to do some kind of ridiculous things together in the hope that they're both really going to enjoy it. So maybe you want a full curriculum vitae, family photos from Kennebunkport, and a detailed medical history before you unzip those trousers. That's okay, too.

[*By the way: all sexually active people should have protection on them at all times. It's not creepy, it's not presumptuous, it's smart.]

Not having sex with someone soon enough to suit your tastes can make itself a deal breaker, but please refer to all of last week's posts before you decide that you have a sex rule and that everyone you date has to magically measure up to it.

To sum up: play it by ear. There is nothing mysterious that happens after the third date that suddenly makes it acceptable to have sex or necessitates that you have sex if you don't want to. As always, assert yourself in your dating communication and make it clear, if it comes to that, what your sexual expectations are.

Happy dating!

Strength in numbers

If it's happened once, it's happened...actually, it's happened almost every time two people have ever gone on a first date with each other: the nerves get to one or the other of you and the night turns into an uphill battle not to grab for the Valium.

Kids, it's time for us to reconsider all this pressure: boy meets boy, boy asks boy out, boy agrees and then realizes he can barely crawl out from under his preprogrammed neurotic rock long enough to ask the waitress to leave off the shallots (and please, dear God, ask her to leave off the shallots).

Dear friends, trusted readers of this humble blog, I present the solution: group dating. It's not just for the prepubescent set anymore.

Don't get me wrong, this is part of my secret plan to take down the dinner and movie first date. (OK, not so secret.) You should, as I'm sure you're by now aware, do absolutely everything in your power to stay at least ten yards from the entrance to any food-selling establishment on your first date.

But the group date (not that you're dating the group - you're with me, right?) solves so much more. The pressure is on to be a superhuman version of yourself on a first date - funnier, more attractive, and more intelligent than you have ever been and any other person has ever been. There you are, unsure of how much of the conversation you'll have to keep up, if you'll be able to do it well, if the other person is going to have a vocabulary any larger than a bird in a gilded cage... The pressure can be enough to make you not even want to leave the apartment.

Enter the group date. Four or more people (the smallest option's really two more people, otherwise you're on a traditional date with a third wheel) who can share the responsibility around. A whole slew of people, say, roasting marshmallows or gazing up at the stars or playing tackle football or picking through the racks at a vintage clothing sale or...well you get the picture. More people to be interesting, to make obtuse references to Kant's proofs, to start the "what's your favorite Bjork song?" game, to laugh louder than you or be worse dressed than you. The worst that could happen is that you invite someone along who's better than you in every way and your date falls ass over teakettle for someone else. The best thing that happens is that this newfangled environment prevents you from turning into a quivering blob of "Play it Again, Sam" Jello.

You should make it's clear that it's a date. Call it a date. Sit next to her, hold her hand, and make sure you have enough time and space to whisper sweet obtuse references to Kant's proofs in her ear. But play along, join the group dynamic, and feel the pressure float away. While you're not busy trying to be Captain Date, the best parts of you just might shine through.

Not totally useless...

I'm heartened to know that the work I'm doing on this blog needs to be done.

Last night, enjoying a cup of tea and a cigarette on the balcony (yes, sometimes writers' lives really do involve moments like this), I heard two of my (straight male) friends having the following conversation:

"See, when you're a man, you're hoping your partner will never change, never get old and fat, but when you're a woman, you want to change everything about your boyfriend."

Ugh. One of them summed this theory up as, "men love women, women love a project."

If you might still be tempted to use this logic in casual conversation, please refer to all of last week's posts. DATE returns tomorrow with another exciting edition, but tonight? Um, tonight I have a date.

Deal breakers

I apologize for the tardiness of the last part of the dating filters series. Being late on assignment makes me hope my potential dates aren't reading this blog...

In any event, to wrap up the discussion of dating filters and to bring everything together I want to talk about the fundamental issue here: deal breakers.

Deal breakers, as the term suggests, are the things we aren't for any reason willing to put up with in a dating and/or relationship situation. Deal breakers can be, and are, pretty much anything: smoking, owning a ferret, being/not being religious, having a sixth toe, bad breath, real estate in a declining neighborhood, being a Yankees fan. Chances are, really, if you can name it, it's probably a deal breaker for someone.

You're skirting a fine line with deal breakers because, as with other hard and fast dating rules, they encourage you to look at potential dates as little more than a set of attributes. If the list doesn't tally, you're clearly not a good match.

Some deal breakers are valuable. You don't have to be open to the idea of, say, meeting a convicted sex offender for coffee. If you're not at all comfortable with that, you shouldn't do it.

Some deal breakers present themselves upfront and allow you to screen people out: say, being badly dressed or too short or too tall or too fat or too anything or liking Yoko Ono, et cetera, ad nauseum. But what happens when a deal breaker rears its ugly head after a few dates? Or what if you've been living with it, trying to see if you can get around it?

Here's the thing about deal breakers: they have the possibility to ruin what could otherwise be a very nice time. You have a right to decide whom you do and do not want to date; but what if the only problem is the rule? What if you stopped thinking about it as a deal breaker? Ask yourself: how do I otherwise feel about the other person? What if she didn't like being tied up and having pies thrown in her face? What if he didn't smoke? What if she didn't sing along really loud to the radio? What if he didn't have that extra toe? How would I feel then? Would I go on a fifth date if this thing weren't a present concern?

More often than I think you'd expect, the answer might be a healthy, hearty yes. If you see the person as more than a problem you have with some aspect of hir personality or physical appearance, you might begin to appreciate the fun the two of you could have together.

It's time for a bitter truth of dating that I think summarizes why firm rules about "types" ruins many people's dating experience: you're not going to marry the vast majority of people you date. If you stop thinking of first dates as the first day of a relationship that doesn't have a chance of working out, you can focus on the pure exhilarating excitement that can come along with going on a date or two with someone: flirting is fun, company is fun, not staying home on Friday and watching a Judge Judy marathon is fun.

To summarize the last week's worth of posts in a sentence: marriage is for neurotic expectations of perfection, dating is for figuring out what that means.

Change isn't always a good thing

Welcome to part three of our discussion of dating filters! It's been a hard week of talking, no? A little rapid growth in dating perspective never hurt anyone, though. Tonight's installment: change isn't always a good thing.

Dating Scenario One: Two people are, say, taking a walk through a local arboretum, talking, laughing, smiling, maybe even having some Dostoevskian eye-talk. Things are going swimmingly quite generally. And then, Dater #1 goes into his schtick on polyamorous people - how he was once approached by a poly person for a date and how funny he thought it was that this poly person would dare approach him: as if!

Dater #2 is poly. Perhaps not being in a relationship at the time, it hasn't even occurred to Dater #2 to disclose this fact - it simply hadn't seemed like a pressing detail. Dater #2 laughs, but not in the gee, that's funny way, and they go about their date, with Dater #2 slightly embarrassed and ashamed, perhaps mostly because she hadn't said anything in her own defense.

It's not okay to have your identity mocked, but what are you to do in a situation when the other person wasn't maliciously maligning you - it's just that it turns out you're definitely not your date's type?

Perhaps the poly person even thinks: "Well, maybe if this works out I could give monogamy a shot. I mean, you never know, right?"

Be very wary of any criticism you get on a date. Some people seem to think they're dating a list of attributes and not a human being, and that, if these attributes could just be reshuffled a little, they might end up with the perfect mate.

The truth is, the criticism doesn't have to be very deep to be out of bounds. The way you laugh, the way you hold your fork, liking Bachman Turner Overdrive, crying at "Pretty Woman" - making fun of these things are all foul shots on a date, specifically a first date. Gentle, playful mockery quite often veils the darker tendency to see dates as projects. You shouldn't allow yourself to be seen as a schematic for the other person's designs - and you shouldn't think of your date that way, either.

The simplest way to avoid this is to avoid mocking behavior on a date. Focus on positive communication: instead of, "Good God, you chew like you had four stomachs!" try, "That tie really sets off your eyes." Mocking anyone, including the server or an old girlfriend can make you seem like a negative person, and remember: date you should be the best you.

There's only so much power you should give a date, and only so much power you should expect to have over a date. "You've got a little schmutz on your chin, there"? Perfectly acceptable. "All dog owners are freaks who should be sent to a desert island in the Pacific"? Foul ball! You shouldn't be expected to change yourself during a date to suit your date's exacting tastes, and you shouldn't think of your date as a Mr. Potato Head, either.

Remember: you're on a date with a person, a mortal human being, and you should experience him or her as a complete individual before you swoop in with any demands. Some things aren't going to change and you shouldn't expect them to; nagging is for unhappy couples - caring, egalitarian communication is for everyone else.

Wars require exit strategies - dates don't

All right, there's still a wee bit of time left to vote in the poll, but this boy's got places to go and people to see, so I'm calling the results: when asked, "On a first date I..." 14% each responded "always head to my favorite restaurant" and "never do the same thing twice," while 21% of you said create an exit strategy with a friend." Actually, by far most respondents (50%) said, "Date? Ha!" and, while I'm not sure anyone will follow this logic other than me, I thought of that as a throwaway answer, and SO you've inspired me, per our one-sided written contract, to write about one of the biggest sins in dating: creating an exit strategy.

I was actually not entirely sure people did this: I had my suspicions, but a big part of me wanted to believe that this was just something dateless people who wrote sitcoms did.

Rarely do I come down so hard on one side of an issue; I like, generally, to put my faith in a great big gray area, but, to put it mildly, creating an exit strategy with a friend is inexcusable.

Let's get the obvious out in the open. Planning a way to get out of a date means you have absolutely no regard for the other person, which raises the question: if you can't in good conscience commit to have one measly date with this person, why in everloving Hell did you say yes?

We're dealing with bare-bones common human courtesy here: when you agree to do a date, you're really agreeing to a whole lot more than showing up at a location in space at a particular location in time to briefly encounter someone else in the same spacetime location. You are, in fact, agreeing to show up to that location in spacetime and be fully present. You are there to learn about a fellow member of the human race, to share a part of yourself as a member of the human race, to listen and be listened to, and to share in some amount of human bonding.

This isn't really as touchy-feely as it sounds: it means in practical terms that you agree to be present in more than body when you go on a date. When you know that you can bail at any minute, you're not going to be listening to a single word the other person says - or, worse, you're going to be scrutinizing every breath for a reason to excuse yourself for a moment. It's not Iraq - it's a date, and it's supposed to be one of the nicest things about being a single human being.

Does he talk too much about his car? Can she not stop fidgeting with her badly-died hair? Maybe he spritzed on too much cologne or seems to be completely uninterested in the bat he's got in the cave? So what. If you're not enjoying yourself, resolve not to see this person again: don't expect one of your friends to help you embarrass someone with cunning and lies. Jumping down the escape hatch might really say more about you than it says about the other person - if you've judged someone right out within an hour, how do you ever meet anyone who's up to your standards?

And let's return to the initial question: namely, why in everloving Hell did you say yes? It's not just your date you're disrespecting in this case: you're demonstrating a great disregard for yourself as a person if the escape plan is necessary. Your time is yours to do with as you choose, so why would you ever go on a date you're decently confident ahead of time that you won't even be around to see end? Your time's valuable - because you can't sit through dessert if you're not in love yet - but not valuable enough to just say "no"?

You're under no obligation ever - did you get that? ever - to say yes to a date. Part of becoming the best dater you can be is learning to say and respect the word "no." Use it: it's your right and, in this case, your responsibility if you can't do any better than kind-of sort-of half-committing to forty five minutes at the same table or until you just can't stand it anymore.

But, in case you're still tempted, I'm going to make this one really simple for you: cell phones off during dates so that you can't possibly worm your way out. Unless your date pulls out a hand-grenade, there's no call for early withdrawal of troops.

Dating Filters Part Deux

Bloggers should never announce their plans for a multi-part series: life intervened, and here I am, two days behind schedule. Plus that poll didn't close exactly when I thought it did...which makes me feel really intelligent, what with having posted it and all.

Anyway, I've crawled my way to my laptop to continue our discussion of dating filters.

While self-segregation is a largely self-centered and, dare I say it, somewhat shallow method of screening partners, other dating filters show more thought about what other people think: the Catholic who will only date other Catholics, the white person who will only date other white people, the Jew who triple checks the spelling of his date's last name, etc.

I'm not talking about people who don't date outside of their religious, ethnic, or racial group because they hate or fear people who are unlike them. In fact, there's probably little point of addressing these people, since they don't tend to read blogs started by polyamorous gay Jews (those are three of the most specific things you're going to hear about me, by the way - remember, DATE is about you!).

I'm talking about people who don't want to ruffle any feathers and essentially buy into the recurring cultural myth that families of blended cultural heritage are doomed to failure.

I don't intend to suggest that there are no benefits whatsoever of marrying someone who in particular is from your religious tradition. (Frankly, I think if you're unwilling to bring someone of another race home, it's time to have a nice long talk with your family about how unacceptable their views are in modern America - and, just so we're clear, I'm not just talking to white people with racist parents.) But you'll notice that this dating filter leads you far afield from the topic of this blog: dating.

This dating filter turns every date into an audition for a marriage partner. Frankly, if you wouldn't deem it appropriate to propose marriage on the first date, why are you thinking about whether or not you would marry this person before you go out!? Aside from any discussion about the type of person you might find to be marriage material, you've already taken half the fun out of dating. You're closing yourself off to people who have other experiences and other backgrounds, and if you find it the least little sad that your parents expect you to marry a Scot, nothing is going to change with your generation.

You're also forwarding the wrong set of expectations in a dating situation. Thoughts of marriage, even subconscious ones, can totally spoil your ability to get to know the other person as anything other than, say, a marriage-aged Hindu of the opposite sex.

From deep within the bosom of the gay community, I would like to offer the world a tidbit we queer folk had to figure out a long time ago: the approval of your community vis-a-vis your romantic choices isn't a good enough reason to make them. Appreciate other people for who they are, not for what they aren't (i.e., a carbon copy of you).

Moreover, don't overload the dating experience with thoughts about the future. It's hard enough to think two hours ahead when you're on a date, so why are you already thinking years ahead?

Dating Filters #1: Self-Segregation

This week on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, I'm running a series on what I like to call dating filters: the series of burning hoops and litmus tests we put ourselves and others through before saying, "Yes, I will meet you for a drink this Friday." (Wednesday's post will be based on the results of the poll on the right side of your screen - don't forget to vote!)

Is there anything inherently wrong with dating filters? No: they can help you weed out people that you won't even be able to have a polite cocktail with. As won't be news to anyone, if there is something (or some things) about other people that you absolutely cannot tolerate for any amount of time, using these as dating filters can save you aggravation and wasting an hour of both of your lives.

Dating filters can be a lot more sinister, though: they can be used as a crutch that eventually prevents you from finding anyone with whom you can share a satisfactory dating experience. In an episode of the Simpsons, Moe, a victim of one of Bart and Lisa's phone pranks yells out to the patrons of his bar: "Amanda Hugandkiss! Hey, I'm looking for Amanda Hugandkiss!" Barney responds: "Maybe your standards are too high!"

The first type of dating filter is self-segregation: that is, identifying one part of yourself (quite typically a very obvious, somewhat externalized characteristic) and only allowing yourself to date people who share this characteristic. Smokers, athletes, dog and cat people, and homeowners are just some examples of people who self-segregate.

Is it nice to be able to sit in the smoking section when you're a smoker on a first date? You bet! As a smoker myself, I can say with absolute confidence that, when I'm on a date with a fellow smoker, I enjoy myself more. The last thing I want to do on a date is separate myself from something that I find comforting: my nerves are all in a twist and nice puff here and there can really take the edge off!

That being said, are all my dates with non-smokers terrible? By no means. Sure, I have to try hard to have minty fresh breath (and, as an aside for smokers: this is really actually harder than you think it is) and I am compelled to go the entire experience without my little carcinogenic safety blanket. Is it difficult? You bet. I was once on a date with a non-smoker that lasted well into the early hours of the following morning, and, though I was having the time of my life, I started getting really nervous after the seventh or eighth hour. He noticed this and asked why: I thought about it for a second and then I was compelled to admit that this was probably the longest I had gone without a cigarette since I was a teenager.

But, you'll note, that's only part of the story: the other part is that I really was having the time of life, and he got to see the smoke-free side of me, which, while a little keyed-up, turns out to be pretty fun.

Are you within your rights to self-segregate? Yes. If you know l'odeur de chat that follows you wherever you go is just going to end up scaring potential mates' dogs, it's all right to only date cat people. If you can't stand even the slightest whiff of tobacco smoke, it's all right never to date a smoker. And if you only want to see people who share your exact economic background, no one is forcing you to date a renter.

But you have to understand the consequences: when there is a litmus test before you'll even agree to the first date, you're closing out a big part of the population. Self-segregators can come to feel that their criterion is the key one, and that everyone who doesn't measure up is totally, objectively undatable. Understand that this is your criterion and your criterion alone, and that other people might be screening you out for some other reason.

Do you not feel defined by being a jogger? Or a smoker? Or a person with 3 siamese cats? Do you wish these things weren't the only thing other people were considering about you? If you don't see yourself as a one-dimensional person, you can benefit by not thinking of other people as one-dimensional, either.

Coming tomorrow: more on dating filters!

Hey Daters!

There's still a couple of days left to vote in DATE's first poll (it's over to the right of your screen). The results of the poll will affect my entry for the day it closes. So, wanna help make DATE? Vote!

Also, please keep sending in your questions! We've gotten a few and are anxious to publish our first DATE advice column!

Thanks, readers!

Go Dutch if you want to go again

In more from the world of first-date advice, I've got another fast fix-it for all of our wonderful readers:

Pay for your own experience.

I believe you'll come to see that part of our central philosophy at DATE is dating egalitarianism. We're living in a world where feminist criticism has given us an opportunity to shine new light on all of life's experiences, but somehow not enough of this light shines into the dating corner. Many people expect to go on the dates their grandmothers went on and then move on to fully equal, modern relationships.

To put a fine point on it, this doesn't work.

The dates we're all trained to go on - and, sadly, we're all trained to go on heteronormative heterosexual dates, so that's what I'm going to start by talking about - invest both too much power and too much responsibility in a man, while depriving a woman of a voice and any responsibility. In reality, whether you want to see it or not, the power dynamic is tipped most of the time before the two of you have even sat down to (anything but) dinner.

[Again, talking to just our heterosexual daters for a moment:]

A few questions for the lady dater: Did he make the initial contact (e.g., approach you in the bar, send the first message on the dating site, ask you when you got done slinging coffee)? Did he make the first call? Did he propose the plan and the time for your first date? Did you automatically accept his plan? Even if it barely interested you? Did you agree to be picked up? Did he do most of the talking and then pay the check?

This is the date everyone in American culture is taught to go on. This makes it no one's fault when two particular people have this experience. He's not an asshole if he picks the restaurant and suggests that you order the crab cakes. This is also what he's been taught: men have to do the approaching and chasing, have to make the phone calls, have to be the ones with the plans and the ones to make the reservations, pick up their female dates, charm them with talk of their high-paying jobs and thrilling hobbies and then, obviously, to pick up the check.

This dating model hasn't just ruined expectations and countless dates for heterosexual pairs. It's infected gay and lesbian dating from the time that gay men and lesbians started dating partners of their choosing out in the open. We automatically painted ourselves into male and female/masculine and feminine quarters: we became tops and bottoms, butches and femmes, and hardly gave a thought to what it would be like to create a dating world that wasn't based on a heterosexual model that was even oppressive to heterosexuals.

And I am by no means talking about some distant past: I once found myself, before I had started to take my own advice, saying to a man on the phone as we tried to make plans for our first date: "I thought men liked making all the decisions." In retrospect, it was one of the most debilitating and awful things I've ever said about myself, but it revealed a new world of dating truth to me. I'm a man: I date men: and neither of us should ever feel entirely responsible for what happens on a date.

With my apologies to almost everyone in the dating world: we haven't allowed our expectations of dating to change in about fifty years, and it's time for a quiet revolution.

It starts with paying for your own experience - and, let's be honest, you're probably still going to sit through a few more first dates in restaurants, and that means having the courage to reach for the check. Asserting yourself economically is one of the many things you can do straight off the bat to equal out power dynamics. Ideally, a date should be a meeting between two equals, and this can't be achieved when all of the power and responsibility are one side. Take an automatic load off your date and pay for your own tofu teriyaki. The added side benefit? If you're not used to doing it, you'll feel really good about yourself after. It's proof to both of you that you don't need your date in order to eat.

And that's powerful.

Can I call yet?

The prevalence of dating advice in our culture is manifest in the amount of it must of us can quote off the top of our heads without quite being able to name a source. The number three seems to be particularly important in American dating lore: two of the most important things you hear about dating as an American are 1) no nookie until after the third date and 2) wait three days to call.

DATE is always in the pursuit of dating truth, and I take issue with both of these numbers. The one I want to talk about tonight is the second (but trust me, trust me, I'll get to the first one).

Ask an average person how long they think they have to wait until calling someone after a successful first date, and I'll wager that nine out of ten of them say three days. If your probe further, you might get this hypothetical average person to say that, "Well, you don't want to seem desperate." But no one can quite offer a reason why 72 hours is the magical number that washes away your desperation.

Today in an article for my day job, I wrote that you need to be assertive in your communication (as well as other aspects of dating). If you're desperate, you're probably going to sound even more desperate if you wait the requisite three days. Conversely, if you're not, you won't sound that way even the next day.

Am I advocating calling the next day? No. Is there a time too soon? Yes. But, it's not a magical number. I think it's much more rational to call someone sometime between five minutes after you part ways and that point when you're pacing around your apartment with six of their seven digits dialed into your cell for two hours on end.

All right, no, do not call as you're walking away from what should be anything but the restaurant (one of our new team members will be posting soon about alternatives to the restaurant). Give it some time. But not so as not to sound desperate.

The reason you shouldn't call right away is to let that feeling build up. That nervous energy that develops after a really good first date is a magic only attached to that event. It's a mixture of hope and fear and general delectation that can be its own reward. Savor this goopy mixed-up feeling and let your date do the same. If it really was a good first date, she's feeling it, too.

The other part of the equation: you shouldn't give a call back until you know what you'd like to see happen next. And I mean in a rational way; of course you want to see him again: that's why you've got this goopy mixed-up feeling. But give yourself time to actually picture the next date and what it would ideally be like. A reasonable sketch of the second date should include at very least an activity and a couple of times you're available that you could bounce off her schedule. You don't have to present all this. You can, in fact, just call to say that you had a great time and that you'd like to do it again soon.

[A note on the word "soon:" after much experience and much talking with friends, I've determined that, if you mean it, you have to say soon, not some time. Soon creates a feeling of sincerity while some time is almost intolerably vague and could be taken a hundred ways that don't translate into Gee, I'd sincerely like to see you again.]

The reason you have to have a plan is simple: even if it isn't at all what happens, you've come out of the fog and are making rational decisions again. You've checked your calendar to make sure you're available (instead of, say, fantasizing about beaching out with him in Hawaii for the rest of your lives). If you can't wait until you've reached this state, you might sound a little strange and, dare I say it, even desperate when you give her the call back.

However! This might very well happen within the first 24-48 hours after the date is over. Here's a little secret: unless you're dating someone with a ridiculously inflated sense of self, he's not going to mind hearing that you're interested. Again, assert yourself in your dating communications: don't wait to be called, and don't worry about seeming desperate if you don't wait for three days.

Honest, clear-headed communication can't lead you wrong.