I went out with John almost entirely because that he liked food.  Like, legit likes food, plans vacations around food destinations, seriously knows shit about wine, orders the chef’s tasting menu, no hesitation about eating offal.  Before we went out he texted me pictures of a cheese plate he’d made.  He seemed cool enough from his profile, although he hadn’t answered many questions.  On the Personality breakdown page (maybe my favorite thing about Ok Cupid) he only had one bar, and that was More Sex Driven.  But, liking food and sex are my top priorities.

We had a great time talking about restaurants and stuff on our first date, but I couldn’t get a read on whether he was into me.  He was more socially skilled than me (most humans are) and easy to talk to but he didn’t seem to be having a great time.  I’m not naturally flirtatious at all, but I try to make an effort to emote a little, especially on a first date.  We sat at a very civil distance from each other at a bar, and I don’t think any physical contact was made in the three hours.

(I vastly prefer that dates involve sitting at a bar, not a table, regardless of the drink: food ratio.  You’re not staring each other down, interview-style, but more importantly, you can make incidental physical contact.  If you’re into it, your knees will turn in towards each other, you can do the Arm-Touch, which I have never really mastered but I see other women do it and it’s fucking magic.  Or if the bar’s a little loud or you’re saying something a little subversive, you can lean in so your lips are an inch away from their ear and say something sexy like, “don’t tell anyone, but I totally parked illegally.”  Basically anything will work, I think.  When guys do this, I fucking melt.  Across the length of a table, the only tool I have to communicate interest is Flirty Eyes.  That or touching my hair?  I hear that’s a thing?  Or that people think it’s a thing?) 

Anyway, we did a hug and very brief kiss, and he commented that I was taller than I said I was on my profile. “I’m wearing wedges… but they’re like, barely two inches.”  He was visibly upset.  Ugh.  In follow-up texts, he seemed more enthused.  He said I was sexier than my pictures, and that he liked that I was “curvy.”  We had some flirty texts back and forth and I became a little more interested.  We arranged to go out for drinks Saturday night.

I wore a navy silk wrap dress that has become my staple 2^nd date dress.  I love the way I look in it, it’s totally grown-up-sexy, and it can come off in 2 seconds.  I also wore some pretty amazing Agent Provocateur lingerie.  I’m just saying. 

We had a few drinks and talked some more.  Made out a little.  Pretty solid date.  He walked me down a little side street to where I’d parked.  It was relatively private but a few people would walk by periodically.  We made out some more and then he started sliding his hand up my dress.  I pulled away to give him a friendly “Are you serious?” look.  This is the part where I thought I’d be giving him directions to my house.  It’s not that I didn’t want his hand up my dress, but like, that’s why I vacuumed and made my bed. I didn't wear the Agent Provocateur just to get molested in a back alley, you know? We did this stupid little game of him sliding his hand up, me pushing it away when it got indecent and after a few rounds of that I just said that I was totally into it but the middle of the street was just not ok with me.  I really expected him to have a response to that, like he wanted to go somewhere else.  I can’t totally remember, but I think he said something along the lines of “I guess I’ll just go jerk off then.”  Yeah, don’t let me get in your way or anything. 

We went out the following Wednesday to a totally amazing 20-course tasting at a Sichuan restaurant.  The wait staff knew him and knew he was the guy that would order the really authentic stuff, not the usual white person stuff.  The food was amazing and interesting and he was into it too, and I was just totally sold on him.  Way to play to your strengths, dude.  In the parking lot I kind of turned on the charm pretty hard, telling him how awesome it was that he knew about such a unique place, and what a great time I had, and I was kind of all over him.  We made out a bit, and then he sighed, “Another night of sexual frustration.”  Oh?  Is it?  I pressed up against him and said, “Well, what are you up to now, do you need to get up really early tomorrow or anything?”  Or did you want to come home with me and fuck me because obviously I’m asking you to?  He did this obviously fake looking-at-his-phone move and said, “yeah…  I kinda do have to.  Which is too bad.” 

My jaw dropped for a second.  If you want to wait a little longer before having sex with someone, that’s fine.  If not losing sleep on a weeknight is super important to you, that’s fine.  If you think immediately after eating 20 courses isn’t the ideal time for sex, that’s also fine.  If you’re thinking I just ate a massive amount of hot peppers and maybe you don’t want my mouth anywhere near your dick until I drink some milk or something, that is totally understandable.  But do not give me some whiny shit about how you’re not getting laid after taking me out.  That’s not how this works, for one thing, and also your inability to close is not my fault.