And I’m doing it all with the knowledge that I’m also an outlier when it comes to drinking, which sometimes feels like the backbone of dating. I like wine, and sip it if I’m out with friends or at a party. I don’t mind being around alcohol and have clocked more hours as a hair holder-back-er and hangover cure deliverer than any person should. Because I knew the answer: No, I wouldn’t chug the bottle. I tried every argument in my playbook: I’d sip a drink and dance. But the whole thing is pretty lopsided: If I comment that someone seems to be drinking too much, I’m judgmental, or a prude. I’ve never heard a friend apologize or make an excuse for their drinking habits. A couple weeks ago, I went out on a first date with a guy who showed up to the restaurant already three beers deep.I can’t pinpoint the moment when I made a conscious decision to stay sober. I gestured to the glass of wine sitting in front of me. Though I was cool with him drinking (and said I’d order something later in the meal), it was clear he was uncomfortable. ” It sounded more like an order than a question, and I meekly reached out to take the glass. I shoved him off, dropping my drink all over his dingy rug. To him – to most of the people I knew – drinking was more than a social lubricant, an easy way to make plans, or a way to chill out. “Everyone drinks,” he said, and before I knew it, he had one hand on the back of my neck, trying to pull me in for a kiss. Unsure what to do, you open that dating app and start to swipe.
All your emails are read and the good TV is over for the night. You bring your laptop out of hibernation and start to scroll.
Any sense of hope for connection is wiped out with one, “Hey baby, you’re sexy.” You plummet back to Earth.
Online dating is a great way to meet people you never would otherwise, and it can be a supremely fun activity when you’re in a positive frame of mind.
He was on the other side, with the door closed, and one full bottle of vodka, a half-empty bottle of tequila missing a lid, and mismatched shot glasses piled on the nightstand. Imagine my surprise when I arrived and discovered it was just the two of us… It was the first time I, who at 15 routinely sat with her much-older friends as they drank to their hearts’ content, was terrified in the presence of alcohol. It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d wanted a drink more than anything in the world, because there, across from him mentally crossing me off his list, I was busy swallowing down my own shame.
Later, when I was trying to navigate my way out of the frat house, he snuck up behind me, almost like he wanted to dance. It was a social classification, a way of announcing to your date or friends or the rest of the bar, !
I don’t think she ever expected me to use her advice to decide whether I would date rich men for money, but hey, life’s weird.