I’ve Never Had a Bad First Date.

I’ve never had a bad first date. Or second date, really. There have been some iffy third dates, but nothing truly terrible.

I’ve never found myself staring at the drink menu, just praying for the date to be over. I’ve never watched the closest bar television out of sheer boredom. I’ve never found myself yawning before the appetizers hit the table. I’ve never left the date knowing I’m going to avoid this guy for the rest of my life. Even when I went out with The Politician’s Son, I spent the night laughing at his jokes and glad that I caved and went out with him. I would’ve gone out with him again if he hadn’t activated his inner stalker before we had the chance.

It’s my greatest flaw that I can look past every single flaw in others. This sounds like a massive humble brag, as if I’m so great for giving others the benefit of the doubt, but it’s not. I actually hate it. I don’t want to be this person. A guy could show up to a date 30 minutes late, chew with his mouth open, force me to pay for the both of us and spill his drink on me…and I’d totally go out with him a second time.

I’m not a pushover. I don’t pity these guys. I like them. I like the guys that trip over themselves. I like the ones that say something incredibly embarrassing. I love it when they swear too much, have no clue about first date etiquette, get too drunk and talk too loud. I appreciate the stupid shit that they do because I’m the exact same way. I’m clumsy. I can’t get through a meal without spilling something. I pronounce everything wrong. I use the word ‘fuck’ far more often than I should. I tell awful, offensive jokes. I ramble when I’m nervous. I don’t always have my shit together and I am the most comfortable around people who are the same way. Even if a guy is making every single first date mistake, I’ll still find something endearing about him and end up having a good time.

When I tell people that I’ve never had a bad first date, they chalk it up to luck. Trust me, that is not the case. If I was lucky, my relationships would last a hell of a lot longer, my bank account would contain more than one 0, my hair wouldn’t constantly look like I just had sex (and not in the good way), and I’d finally be able to lose 10 pounds so that my mother would stop emailing me diet advice. It’s not that I’m lucky, it’s that I’m a sucker for a nice guy that just hasn’t figured it all out yet.

- Suzie Robb
@suzierobb

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

You may use these HTML tags and attributes: <a href="" title=""> <abbr title=""> <acronym title=""> <b> <blockquote cite=""> <cite> <code> <del datetime=""> <em> <i> <q cite=""> <strike> <strong>