I think I’m addicted to “first dates.”
Don’t laugh. Like I seriously have a problem. I love going out with someone for the first time. It’s all fresh and new, everyone is on their best behavior, there are rules. I get to be an unknown quantity… You know what I mean. Conversation is easy, you tell a funny story, they tell a funnier story, there’s usually food and, at the very least, alcohol involved. It’s one of my favorite things.
Here’s what most men don’t know: if we’ve had a few conversations and no awkward silences, I’m going to say yes if you ask me out. But, if we’ve had those conversations and it takes you a month to suggest getting together, I’m going to give you a hard time. I love decisiveness. I love when at the end of some giggly, long, super fun conversation, the guy says, hey what are you doing tomorrow? (Or Friday. Or this weekend.) and I say not too much. Then he says, hey let’s go to lunch or dinner or for a drink… That makes me smile. It’s pretty simple. If you like me and you want to see me, LET ME KNOW. If I have to wait too long or worse, have to ask you to ask me to do something… *sigh* un-good.