Online dating the perfect date
I could name several very charming first dates—like the time I sat by Mariah Carey’s pianist at a bar and my date and I pretended to be newlyweds while he gave us marriage advice—that went exactly nowhere.
What that meant to me was either there was a cosmic force intent on me dying alone, or something was really wrong with the equation I was throwing out into the world.
We went to a place that had all the ambiance of a dive bar: no sign on the door, a windowless room in a basement, a dark hallway that opened to a “patio” in the alley where “mice” scampered under the Dumpster. There was a sense of transparency that I almost never felt on dates.
(“A lot of mice around this time of year,” our server said with studied casualness.) But, like every other restaurant in Vancouver that summer, they served perfect tiny tacos and local craft beer. Too often, dating created a weird tension: We were all walking the line between cool and sincere.
In a preview of her book HOW TO FALL IN LOVE WITH ANYONE, author Mandy Len Catron shares one of her own online dating experiences. Scott smiled at me for a moment, then said, “That’s my buddy. I wanted him to do a bit about me saving a kitten, but he thought you might not buy that one.” I liked Scott.
I was thirty-two and had been single for about a year and a half when I went out with a guy named Scott. It was just one date, but I remember it better than I remember almost any other online date. I liked that he had gone to the trouble of making up an elaborate story and that he then confessed immediately.
At twenty-three, I’d been so willing to organize my days around someone else, but by thirty-two I found the idea far less appealing.