Guessing is fun until you’re about five, then it becomes stressful. We guess on tests, stock purchases, roulette, vitamins, and flu shots, only to worry and question ourselves. We guess in relationships all the time. No matter how well we think we know our lovers, we probably fall well short of expectations.
This is a small sample of things I “guess” when planning the first date:
- Do I call and confirm? Text?
- Upscale, casual, or dive? What should I wear? Baseball cap or not?
- Do I pick her up or meet her? If I pick her up, do I bring a gift? Wine? Flowers?
- Do I show up on time, early, or late?
- Which car should I drive, or should we take Uber, or does that make me seem like a drunk ass?
- Do I order a bottle of wine? Red or white? Expensive?
This is only what’s leading up to the date. Once the date commences, it’s more of the same. Sucks. I’d rather have specific directions. Once the date concludes, I’d love to have the following conversation (which will never happen):
“I had a great time, my dear. Now, let’s discuss the next steps. Should I kiss you tonight? If so, where? French or not?”
“Yes. Upper lips. French, but don’t tongue my molars.”
“Noted. Do you want to see me again? When?”
“Yes. Thursday. Let’s grab sushi. Pick me up around seven.”
“You’re penned in. Now, how many dates before we have sex?”
“I’d say four or five, depending on my menstrual cycle. First times are messy enough without blood splatter.”
“Agreed and oh, goodie. Protection?”
“You’re fixed, right? That’s awesome, but do me a favor and wear a bag until I get to know you better. Cool?”
“Cool. Any kinks I should know about?”
“Bite my ear lobes, kiss my neck, hold my hair when I give you head, warn me before coming in my mouth, I come quicker after receiving oral, careful with that goatee, I don’t expect you to spend the night, especially if you snore, and please keep things out of my ass.”
“I think I’m in love. Oh, how long before I can say that?”
“I’ll ask the jury to strike that last statement.”
“Sorry. So, do you want to know what I want?”
“You’re a man. I know what you want. I’m not a fucking idiot.”