The weeknight only policy

When I first started online dating I instituted a scheduling rule called the weeknight only policy. The rule states that I never schedule a first or second date on a weekend, for the following reasons:

  • Weekends are short, and they’re precious. I want to save them for my friends, family, and people I’ve actually confirmed that I enjoy being around.
  • It’s an easier out if the date is bad. I can say (honestly) that I have to work early, I’m tired from a long day, etc. etc. It’s also easier to schedule just drinks on a weeknight.
  • It’s less of a disappointment if it doesn’t go well. If a guy cancels, the date is awkward, or something comically awful happens, at least I didn’t potentially miss something better to be there. On a Tuesday night, for instance, I would have most likely been on my couch watching New Girl, not out to dinner or drinks with my friends. So that definitely softens the blow. Which brings me to the inspiration for this post…

I broke my own rule. I said yes to a Saturday night date. A second date, so slightly less egregious than a first, but it’s definitely early enough in the game that I still don’t know how I feel about the guy. When he asked, I hesitated, but I honestly didn’t have plans at that point so I said yes. He made reservations at a BYO I’ve been wanting to try, I planned my outfit in my head and bought some vino for dinner (I know, I’m classy as hell). And then, hours before said date:

okc cancel text

Okay. Intellectually I know this isn’t the end of the world. It’s flu season. People get sick. Shit happens. Dates have canceled on me before. To be fair, I’ve also canceled before (but only once same day and I promise I had an actual reason). He was appropriately apologetic. We chatted for a bit about potential dates to reschedule. I’m fairly confident that this is legit and that it wasn’t just an excuse for him to ditch me, but I also know that that’s a possibility. Ahem, because it’s totally happened to me before. 

stay classy men of okcupid

Still, I can’t help but feel like a complete and utter loser. Everyone was busy by the time I tried to make alternate plans. Obviously staying home on a Saturday night is far from a tragedy; to be totally honest I stay home on weekend nights fairly often (wow this post is making me look cooler by the minute) but online dating can be such a self esteem crusher to begin with, and I just stoically endured an entire day of girls smugly blowing up Facebook with instagrammed shots of 1-800-flowers arrangements. Frankly this pushed my reality a little too close to the opening scene from Bridget Jones’s Diary for comfort. The worst part is, if this had happened on a Wednesday night I would’ve been thrilled at the prospect of putting on my pjs and watching Nashville instead of muddling through awkward conversation. Which is EXACTLY why the weeknight only policy was put in place to begin with! As a fail safe against shit like this. Damn it, me. Damn it.

So now I’m sitting on my couch watching Workaholics, blogging, eating cheese, and drinking the Pinot Noir that was meant for dinner. Happy Saturday night, guys!

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My best first date

This is the story of the best first date I ever had. But don’t get too excited, readers, as this story does not have a happy ending. Fast forward about 5 months from my very first okc date. I’d had some decent first dates, but nothing truly awesome. At that point I wasn’t convinced that there was such a thing as a great first date. Enter N, two years younger than me and pretty damn cute. He sent me a great first message, just the right combination of funny, charming, short and sweet.

N asked me out after a few messages back and forth. I was leaving for a work trip so we scheduled a date for a few weeks later, which meant there was a lot of build up before we actually met. In that few weeks we did some texting, but it wasn’t annoying, it was actually nice. We joked, flirted, and shared our favorite music. I was officially into him.

Finally, the night of our date arrived. I met N at a Thai restaurant in the city (his pick). I had learned pretty early on to push for just drinks on a first date, so if it turns out to be awful I can escape quickly, but when he suggested dinner I didn’t protest. We had hit it off so well online that it had to be good in person, right?

It totally was. N was cute and (miracle of miracles) actually the height he claimed to be in his profile. He was funny, smart and sweet in person, just like online, and our chemistry was good from the beginning. The conversation flowed easily: he told me about himself but also asked lots of questions about me and seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say. We drank Asian beer. We shared Pad Thai. There was enough snappy dialogue between us to fill an Aaron Sorkin script. Not to sound like a conceited asshole, but I made him laugh. A lot. I could tell he was into me. It was the closest I’d ever gotten to those fictional dates from movies and tv. Shit. Was. Great.

N had a good job in an interesting field and what sounded like a fun life. We talked about music, movies, books, college, our families, and the city. Finally, as our meal wound down, he offered to walk me towards my place since his apartment was in that direction.

It was drizzling as we walked and I wondered if N was going to kiss me. We stopped at our destination and he smiled, telling me he had a great time and would definitely be in touch. I agreed, thanked him for dinner, and was just turning to leave when he suddenly leaned in and kissed me. It was a short kiss and the only truly awkward moment on the night; he did it so suddenly it kind of startled me. It was honestly no more than a peck on the lips. Then he smiled, said ‘Bye’, and walked away.

I walked home doing an internal fist pump. Success! I thought. That was so much fun. The last part was a bit weird, but whatever. I was excited to hear from him again.

Except I never did. Days passed and I couldn’t believe N hadn’t called me. I started to feel really, really, unbelievably, spectacularly stupid. Did I completely make up how great the date was? Was it totally one sided and he was never into me the whole time? He had certainly acted like he was having as good a time as I was. How could I have been so wrong? Also, if he wasn’t into me, what. the. eff. was that kiss about? I decided that one of three things had to be the explanation:

  1. He wasn’t really into me
  2. He liked me, but wasn’t attracted to me
  3. (my preferred reason) he was tragically hit by a SEPTA bus before he had the chance to ask me out again. RIP

I thought about calling or texting him, but it just seemed too… desperate. This one was a real bummer. I don’t even mean N; I met the guy all of once, so who knows if I would have even liked him as much after a second date. I mean thinking something had gone really well and then getting a cold slap in the face telling me otherwise. I mean getting excited and then being let down. Also, there are few things more embarrassing than telling your friends, co-workers, roommate, mom, barista, pharmacist, bank teller and mailman about this awesome date you had, and then having to update each and every one of them when they asked with, “Yeahhhhh never heard from him again.” Ugh.

Am I a pussy for not reaching out to N? A few people told me to just call him. But I never want to be “that girl” who can’t take a hint, and I’m not sure there’s a bigger hint than someone not calling you. If he had wanted to see me again, he would have made it happen. Justin Long at least taught me that much.

Date rating: 8/10 (funny, smart, cute, great conversation, minimal awkwardness, good chemistry)

Lesson learned: Don’t get too ahead of yourself when things go well, especially on a first date. Also, don’t broadcast the fact that you had a great date to everyone you know until you’ve actually heard from the guy again.