First Date Is The Worst. Second Date Is The Best.
Of course, some are less “bad” than others.
In 2005, I went on a first date to a Mexican restaurant for dinner. (That was the first mistake. You can always add dinner, but you can’t take it back.)
My date was, for lack of better words, pretty darn boring.
I consider myself to be an engaging person who can talk to just about anyone, but there were silences, and awkward ones at that. As I tore through my fajitas, I was planning in my head what I would say for the next half an hour at least.
Finally, the date came to a close.
I thought to myself, “Nice enough guy, but that’s it.”
The next day, I sent my standard “thank you” e-mail, before texting was the norm. He paid for my meal, after all.
I figured that would be the end of our communication. But then, lo and behold, he responded saying that he had a good time and then wrote something funny at the end of his e-mail.
I thought to myself, “Hmm… this guy wasn’t funny at all on our date. Interesting…”
And so, the e-mails continued, and they became wittier as the hours passed. And then they got downright cute… until he asked me out again.
What was a girl to do?
While I didn’t have a good time on the first date, this guy seemed interested, I knew he could at least communicate in written form, and well, I was free the night he asked. (Oh, and I like baseball, the proposed date.) Why not?
The day of the second date rolled around, and I was not looking forward to it.
The hours passed, I finally got ready, and off I went.
When we met, he wasn’t as bad as I had remembered. In fact, he was kind of cute. When we got to the baseball game, his friends were really nice to me.
And then – against all odds – this guy was actually funny! It was as if I was on a date with a different person. We had a great night, and I even got a little smooch at the end of the evening.
I liked this guy.
I found out many months later that he was nervous on the first date.
We ended up dating for a year and a half.
While he wasn’t the right guy for me in the end, I was so glad that I had gone out on the second date. Many people get nervous, or as I used to affectionately call myself on dates where I was trying to impress someone, “Weird Erika.”
Unless someone spits on you, picks his or her nose, offends you in some unforgivable way, or something made it undeniably clear that you are not meant to be, it can’t hurt to go on one more date.
You never know what comes after the first unless you give it a chance.