Sex, Lies, and Splitting Checks
Single in the (Glass) City: Make-Or-Break Moments...Sizing Up The Singles
A first date can be an exercise in gainful deception. Not outright lying, but the kind of embellishing you might do on a resume. The kind of craftiness that allows merely owning a pair of running shoes to turn into “Oh, I run, too!” and still pass your internal lie detector.
This first date model of you is the best version of yourself, because you can’t be your everyday self. You’re the kind of guy who uses the self-checkout line to ring up organic arugula as regular arugula and has fallen over while putting on shorts. The date you is you maybe 15 percent of the year. Smiling, talkative, listening to stories about pets, and giving damns where no damns would otherwise be given.
But there might not be a greater lie in the evening’s intricate web of duplicity than when the woman offers to pay. It usually starts off with a silent routine, a quiet move to her purse to fish out a wallet she knows she’s not actually going to open. “Can I help you with…?” she might offer, trailing off, well aware she’s going to have the same amount of money in that wallet as when this night started. “That’d be great, I’m glad you’re not caught up with antiquated rules of dating” somehow does not come out of your mouth because it’s beat to the punch by, “Oh, no, I’ve got this!”
And so you pay. You always do, because pretty girls are worth it and you’re not on the up and up either.