I’m an expert at first dates. I go on them constantly. Nothing quite compares with that magical initial encounter when someone goes from a Match.com profile photo to a real, live human being who looks at his phone way too often. Is he checking the time? Monitoring an important work situation? Receiving naked photos from another, probably blond woman? Oh, the delicious, scintillating ambiguity of it all—it’s half the fun and I’m positively addicted!
When I read Tracy McMillan’s fabulous truth-bomb of an article, “Why You’re Not Married,” I realized that even if second dates are not exactly my forté, I can still share a lot of wisdom when it comes to that first date. After all, I wouldn’t be going on so many if I weren’t just stunning at them—and I did major in reproductive biology before deciding I’d rather get my MRS! So, with a hat tip to Tracy for the inspiration and empowerment, without further ado, I give you the only first date guide you’ll ever need.
As a former aspirant to the unmarriageable field of biology, I know that men are driven first and foremost by an instinctive need to spread their seed, so it’s imperative you look your best—and I don’t mean your idea of looking your best. Your idea of looking your best is probably some pathetic get-up involving flat shoes and climate-appropriate outerwear. Get real. Think like a eukaryote, because that’s the level of intelligence you’re dealing with. (Understanding these scientific nuances is what makes me so great with men.)
Your Saturday-night eukaryote will only want to mate with the healthiest organism it can find. You need to look fit—foundational garments are your best friends in this department—and apply your makeup with a gardening trowel for the look of natural health that can only come from multiple layers of primer, foundation, pressed powder, blush and bronzer. And remember, this is all about understanding biology, so choose an outfit that puts the majority of your personal biology on display.
In prehistoric times, men provided for their womenfolk through hunting and making fire. Most of today’s men would probably trip and impale themselves on a primitive spear before they got anywhere in the vicinity of a herd of buffalo, but they have other ways of feeling like providers: namely, by being smarter and funnier than you.
You could be a three-time MacArthur Fellow who also happens to be Tina Fey and this principle would still apply. On a first date, you should make every attempt to limit your verbalizations to delighted laughter and dainty, scandalized noises. This can be challenging when a man insists on asking you questions as if he is actually interested in anything other than your cup size, however. Which leads us to . . .
Memorize these easy answers to the most commonly asked first date questions and you’ll be able to field even the most pointed inquiry with oh-so-dateable ease.
Q: Where are you from?
A: You don’t want to hear about that.
Q: Who are you planning on voting for in November?
A: I can’t decide! It’s all so complicated!
Q: Where did you go to college?
A: Where did you go to college?
Q: What are your hobbies?
A: Needlepoint, practicing my harp, and collecting antique tea services!
Q: Do you have any siblings?
A: I have an identical twin sister with breast implants and loose morals.
My personal meta-study of years of Cosmopolitan questionnaires indicates that men love a woman who a) eats like a pig and b) looks like a famine victim. This creates quite the conundrum when it comes to first date meal ordering: he wants to see you go to town on a blue-cheese-coated New York strip with a side of potatoes whipped in lard, but short of a raging coke addiction (no judgment—I’ve tried it!) you have no way to maintain your girlish figure in the face of three or more first-date dinners a week.
This one easy trick will save your dating life. Right before heading out for the evening, avail yourself of a modern girl’s best friend: laxatives. Wash them down with just enough vodka to paralyze your digestive system for the length of the date (three shots work for me, and as a bonus, they ease those pre-date jitters!); when your stomach comes back to life, those unwanted calories will just disappear. This method also provides you with a strong incentive to end the date early, leaving him wanting more. That brings us to . . .
Ending the Night Right
If you have sex with him you’re a slut. If you don’t you’re a tease. So much conflicting information! What’s a girl to do? I’ve got a move that walks this fine line with grace and virtually guarantees results.
When a guy drops me off at the end of the night, I like to let him walk me to the porch. I kiss him, demurely at first, then with growing passion and desire, but when I feel the first rumblings indicating that my vodka is wearing off, I push him away. As he walks to his car, I call his name, and when he turns back, I flash him (pro tip: don’t wear a bra). This shows that I’m sexual in spite of my boundaries, and he’s always long gone by the time the laxatives have me bolting for the door. It’s also made me quite popular with the local homeless folk, who really know a kindred free spirit when they see one.