I meet my family for lunch. My nephew is talking about meeting someone online. We speak seriously for a bit and then we start joking and examining the semantics of online dating.
Who pays for the first meal? Do you split the tab on the next bill? Do you meet for dinner? Do you avoid a meal and meet for coffee first?
“A guy on the street asked me out,” I say.
“Seriously?” they say.
“Yes,” I say. “In front of my apartment building.”
“Well,” says my niece. “I guess it’s better than a bar.”
We all laugh.
“What did he say?” they ask.
I recap his conversation which went something like this.
“Don’t I know you?” says street guy.
“No,” I say.
“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” says street guy.
“Yup,” I say.
“Could I get your number?” says street guy.
“I don’t think so,” I say.
“Could I give you my number?” says street guy.
“I don’t think so,” I say. “I’m not really ready to date but you made my day!”
My sister and the rest of us bust out laughing.
“I know,” I say. “I had to give myself a once over. A street check. Was it my new jeans? Was it the boots? The few pounds I’ve lost? Was it the full blow dry and curling my hair? Was it actually wearing complete makeup again?”
“Was he cute?” they ask.
“Yes,” I say. “Who knows, maybe I’m putting an ‘I’m ready to date’ vibe out there.”
We laugh some more.
“Definitely better than a bar,” says my niece again.
“I think I gotta agree,” I say. “There’s a restaurant near me with a bar that is notorious for middle-aged singles. I went to get a salad not too long ago and sat people-watching. I finally leaned in and said to the bartender, ‘Do you know what I call this place? The bad effects of divorce.’ And she burst out laughing.”
We finish our lunch and head home.
Life post-divorce is evolving.
Baby steps. But forward movement nonetheless. I used to joke that I talked about dating like a curious past-time, not something I was ready for. But that’s changing.
I’m playing out scenarios now.
I’d meet for coffee or lunch on the first date.
Less pressure, easier exit, and shorter time invested.
I’d lean towards a man who paid for the first meal. I think subsequent meals should be split. Evidently, not in line with the younger generation. My niece and nephew think the first meal should be the one that’s split.
The logic?
You could have a lot of first dates which could get expensive. Split it and offer to pay the entire bill once you’re sure you like the person.
Younger is a more pragmatic approach.
Older is more old school.
Neither is necessarily wrong.
When I do meet a guy…
I’m not entirely against bars. I’m Irish. I’m overly social. I’m a party girl. But I’m not looking for a stereotype out on the prowl in a divorced singles bar.
One that could be mistaken for a Saturday Night Live skit.
I’ll take ‘street guy’ over ‘divorce bar guy.’
When I’m ready.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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