Please Don't Bring Me Flowers: The Anti-Romantic

Though R and I have plenty of things in common, we certainly are far from being exactly the same. There is one critical similarity, however, that has led us to embark on the business venture that is our book about bad dates: our mutual hatred for all things romantic.

Romance and nice gestures make me squirm. Unlike most girls, I do not appreciate receiving a text in the morning before work telling me to have a great day. I don’t care that you had fun on our date or that you really enjoyed talking to me. Either you want to see me again or you don’t, and nine times out of ten, I don’t want to see you again, so it doesn’t matter.

Not too long ago, I went on a first date to get drinks with a guy and was unimpressed. He was kind of rude to the waitress, and that’s a dealbreaker for me. He also seemed to have a bad habit of asking me questions about myself but then interrupting me when I answered them. Regardless, he sent me an email a week or so later, saying he had a great time and asking if I’d like to get dinner the following week. Though I sent a polite response saying thank you, but I didn’t feel much chemistry, inside I was screaming “WHY DID YOU HAVE TO ASK ME TO DINNER AND RUIN MY DAY!?!?!”

Most girls would love it if a guy they were seeing cooked them a romantic dinner, right? Not me. A friend of mine was seeing one of my close friends, who has severe and complex food allergies. Over time, I’d become somewhat familiar with what she could and couldn’t eat, so my friend went to the trouble of bringing me to the grocery store with him so I could help him pick out ingredients for a romantic dinner that wouldn’t kill her. I pretty much went home and vomited afterward, a similar response to when my like-minded romance-hating friend told me her date brought her a rose. “Ew,” I said. “That’s disgusting.”

I’m not saying I want someone to slap me around, verbally abuse me and spit on me, not by any means. Though I like guys who are direct and assertive, I don’t tolerate inconsiderateness. Let me demonstrate this critical difference:

The other day, I went on a sushi date with a guy. When it came time to order, I told him everything sounded good, and that I’m adventurous and like everything but salmon and cilantro. He in turn asked the waitress to just pick some stuff for us, but nothing with salmon or cilantro. Perfect! He passed the test, and I’ll probably go out with him again. If we were in a relationship and I wanted to go to a particular sushi restaurant and eat a specific type of sushi, I’d expect things to be different. But for a first date, that is exactly how I like a guy to handle it.

Now let me tell you about how I don’t like a guy to handle himself. I was recently trying to plan a date with someone, and we were picking a day. I said I was free Thursday, he said Tuesday would be better, and he would be able to leave work around 8. I asked him what time he thought he could get to a location about halfway between his work and where I live—I work early, so I wanted to make this happen as early as possible. He said “Well it will be easier to meet by my work.” Hold on a minute here. We picked the day that’s easier for him and harder for me, then he wants me to meet him near his work, which is nowhere near where I live, because it’s easier for him? Not acceptable, and not a good first impression at all. As a result, I have decided not to go out with him. R, of course, supports this decision.

I’m not asking for a man to be rude to me. I’m just not into flowers and flattery. As you can probably tell from my decision to nix the man who wanted me to meet him near his work, I value manners and politeness. Maybe I’m a little old fashioned in my approach to gender roles in dating. But I think we can all agree on one thing—I’m certainly not old fashioned when it comes to romance.

Love Always,
S