The Hazards of Good-Looking Men
I had my date with the good-looking guy on Tuesday. I don't know what to call him. I'll start with the Looker. Now, he's not gorgeous, but he is substantially good-looking. That's enough.
Had I had the same date with any ugly guy, I would probably say it was a bad date. But the whole "biological programming to respond favorably to good-looking humans" was working against me. Even babies respond to better to the good-looking, so it's not wholly cultural. I really wonder what evolutionary reason there is for this. The theory I've heard is that we read it as an indicator of health and good genes with a minimum of DNA mutations, which is semi-plausible but can't be the whole story (babies aren't concerned about their caretaker's genetic mutations; that only comes in for mating).
Anyway, I got there maybe 2 minutes late (I had run into some friends at the locker room in the gym) and he was standing right inside the door. I didn't really have a sense of what he would look like (other than good) so I had to ask if he was the Looker. He said yes and we were immediately seated. I didn't really finesse the greeting; I didn't have time to shake his hand or say "Nice to meet you," but by the time we were seated it was too late for these things. Awkward.
We immediately started chatting so that when the waitress came by to get our drink orders we hadn't looked at the menu. I said I was thinking of a merlot. I wanted to make clear that I would be ordering an alcoholic beverage so I didn't end up drinking alone as I had with the perfectly average no-chemistry blind date. He said he'd order a beer. We also decided on our pizzas, and were prepared when the waitress came back around.
He is from South Carolina and has a slight accent. I didn't realize how much I miss Southern boys. I mean, odds are they're likely to be gun-toting, church-going Republicans so there's a reason I don't end up with them very often, but I still miss them for some reason. He has an older sister and two much younger half-siblings. His mom owned a gymnastics studio while he was growing up, but he never really learned tumbling because it was a girl's studio. He moved to DC to "start over," though I didn't press for details whether than meant after a divorce. He found himself with an offer at a law firm in South Carolina and knew that if he started there he would never leave SC and experience new things and so he turned it down and moved to DC, got an LLM (master's degree in a specialized area of law), and finally found a job.
He had made a couple ominous statements in his email correspondence about being a pack rat. I wasn't sure how to take that. He collects records. I asked "CDs or vinyl?" He said vinyl. I asked where you get such things. He said, "The used record store." Ha. Then he said, "Well, you have to have something to do on a Saturday." That seemed an odd way to talk about your hobby. I mean, I suppose I could say the same about sewing but I lurve it, and I would do it four or five days a week if I could. He also buys a lot of books, but I later realized that we didn't talk about books at all.
Why I would complain if he was ugly:
-He asked me virtually no questions about myself. Mars and Venus on a Date, my dating bible, says this is ok, it's just how men are and not a sign of larger issues, and you just have to charge in and talk about yourself. But it still would have been nice.
-He kept looking at the TV. I finally glanced at it to see what was on, and it was a Caps (Washington Capitols) ice hockey game. He was not quite staring, but definitely more than glancing. He recognized that he was doing this later in the evening and said, "Sorry I keep turning away, I don't really fit under the table." I looked and it was true, his knees were touching the bottom of the table. But the thing is, he was turning his head and leaving his legs uncomfortably under the table. I expected him to be very tall when he stood up, but he's not super tall; maybe 5'11". He must have very long legs and a short torso. He could be a supermodel!
I guess these aren't terrible. Everyone feels that I should forgive him for the TV thing because men cannot help looking at a game.
He has insomnia and said he'd slept poorly the night before, so he was kind of out of it by the end of the night. He walked me over to the metro and gave the throwaway, "We should do this again sometime." I hugged him and headed down. He caught a cab.
I hadn't been getting much of a vibe of interest from him. I felt like he was being polite to me, but was a little disappointed. Later in the evening he did start giving me these smoldering glances. It was crazy. I don't know where he learned this but they were very effective. They didn't really feel personal, though. More like that thing where men will sleep with any woman; not that he came remotely close to propositioning me, but apparently they can separate wanting to have sex with someone from enjoying their company.
Anyway, so I was pretty certain I'd never hear from him again, but then he emailed me when he got home.
Hi there. It was great meeting you -- sorry I faded a bit near the end there; I will endeavor to be a little more peppy next time I see you. Have a great week.
-The Looker
Very surprising. I wrote him back a pleasant email saying I was looking forward to seeing him again.
However, sending me an email and asking me out are two very different things. I give it a 7% chance that we have another date (I had to deduct 3 points because at some point in the evening he told me I had tomato sauce on my chin; I suspect it had been there for a while and was all he could focus on and all he'll be able to remember of how I look). But of course if he asks I'll say yes because he's so dang good-looking.
Had I had the same date with any ugly guy, I would probably say it was a bad date. But the whole "biological programming to respond favorably to good-looking humans" was working against me. Even babies respond to better to the good-looking, so it's not wholly cultural. I really wonder what evolutionary reason there is for this. The theory I've heard is that we read it as an indicator of health and good genes with a minimum of DNA mutations, which is semi-plausible but can't be the whole story (babies aren't concerned about their caretaker's genetic mutations; that only comes in for mating).
Anyway, I got there maybe 2 minutes late (I had run into some friends at the locker room in the gym) and he was standing right inside the door. I didn't really have a sense of what he would look like (other than good) so I had to ask if he was the Looker. He said yes and we were immediately seated. I didn't really finesse the greeting; I didn't have time to shake his hand or say "Nice to meet you," but by the time we were seated it was too late for these things. Awkward.
We immediately started chatting so that when the waitress came by to get our drink orders we hadn't looked at the menu. I said I was thinking of a merlot. I wanted to make clear that I would be ordering an alcoholic beverage so I didn't end up drinking alone as I had with the perfectly average no-chemistry blind date. He said he'd order a beer. We also decided on our pizzas, and were prepared when the waitress came back around.
He is from South Carolina and has a slight accent. I didn't realize how much I miss Southern boys. I mean, odds are they're likely to be gun-toting, church-going Republicans so there's a reason I don't end up with them very often, but I still miss them for some reason. He has an older sister and two much younger half-siblings. His mom owned a gymnastics studio while he was growing up, but he never really learned tumbling because it was a girl's studio. He moved to DC to "start over," though I didn't press for details whether than meant after a divorce. He found himself with an offer at a law firm in South Carolina and knew that if he started there he would never leave SC and experience new things and so he turned it down and moved to DC, got an LLM (master's degree in a specialized area of law), and finally found a job.
He had made a couple ominous statements in his email correspondence about being a pack rat. I wasn't sure how to take that. He collects records. I asked "CDs or vinyl?" He said vinyl. I asked where you get such things. He said, "The used record store." Ha. Then he said, "Well, you have to have something to do on a Saturday." That seemed an odd way to talk about your hobby. I mean, I suppose I could say the same about sewing but I lurve it, and I would do it four or five days a week if I could. He also buys a lot of books, but I later realized that we didn't talk about books at all.
Why I would complain if he was ugly:
-He asked me virtually no questions about myself. Mars and Venus on a Date, my dating bible, says this is ok, it's just how men are and not a sign of larger issues, and you just have to charge in and talk about yourself. But it still would have been nice.
-He kept looking at the TV. I finally glanced at it to see what was on, and it was a Caps (Washington Capitols) ice hockey game. He was not quite staring, but definitely more than glancing. He recognized that he was doing this later in the evening and said, "Sorry I keep turning away, I don't really fit under the table." I looked and it was true, his knees were touching the bottom of the table. But the thing is, he was turning his head and leaving his legs uncomfortably under the table. I expected him to be very tall when he stood up, but he's not super tall; maybe 5'11". He must have very long legs and a short torso. He could be a supermodel!
I guess these aren't terrible. Everyone feels that I should forgive him for the TV thing because men cannot help looking at a game.
He has insomnia and said he'd slept poorly the night before, so he was kind of out of it by the end of the night. He walked me over to the metro and gave the throwaway, "We should do this again sometime." I hugged him and headed down. He caught a cab.
I hadn't been getting much of a vibe of interest from him. I felt like he was being polite to me, but was a little disappointed. Later in the evening he did start giving me these smoldering glances. It was crazy. I don't know where he learned this but they were very effective. They didn't really feel personal, though. More like that thing where men will sleep with any woman; not that he came remotely close to propositioning me, but apparently they can separate wanting to have sex with someone from enjoying their company.
Anyway, so I was pretty certain I'd never hear from him again, but then he emailed me when he got home.
Hi there. It was great meeting you -- sorry I faded a bit near the end there; I will endeavor to be a little more peppy next time I see you. Have a great week.
-The Looker
Very surprising. I wrote him back a pleasant email saying I was looking forward to seeing him again.
However, sending me an email and asking me out are two very different things. I give it a 7% chance that we have another date (I had to deduct 3 points because at some point in the evening he told me I had tomato sauce on my chin; I suspect it had been there for a while and was all he could focus on and all he'll be able to remember of how I look). But of course if he asks I'll say yes because he's so dang good-looking.