Getting Together For Dinner Is Not A Date.

For years, specifically the three since my 7 year boyfriend and I officially broke up ( as in 'divided the books, yelled at each other in the front yard over the vintage Persian rug, exchanged glares that vibrated with sheer hatred when one of the other had the audacity to hum a song with lyrics that didn't fit the situation' variety officially broke up), I have been trying to cosmically channel this 'not a date' state of being to men who I somehow found myself sitting across from.

"This is not a date, this is a meal. We are not 'getting to know each other', we are just getting to know each other. This is not an audition, we are not connecting on some other worldly romantic plane just above that which others around us can see from our conversation, we are just having a nice time. This. Is. Not. A. Date. "

But it ends up being a date every time... or at least on one side. There is always me turning my head half sideways at the end to avoid an awkward kiss I wasn't going in for. It ends up that moment where I reach for the check to figure my half and he says "Oh, no... I insist. " It seems like he is saying "No really, I'd like to buy you dinner", but what he is really saying is "Oh, no, I'm forcing a date on you. Once I pay this, it has been a date. Even if nothing comes of that, you've been totally punked into this date. I went on a date with you, and you had no sayso about it. You like that? Oh yeah... you can't take it there, can you. Now come here and let me try to kiss you."

And as such, I hate what I know of as dating. Usually. Most of the time. There has been some involvement here and there since being relieved of (or rather, liberating myself from) my suburban domestic partnership status that few years ago... 2 to e exact. One, arguably gay. One, my best friend, and now someone I do not speak to. Neither consisted of the formalities of dating, however, they were just friendships that drifted to the next level without pressure, which is why they likely did-- I do not like pressure. I do not like my face, I do not like my voice, I am haunted by the requests of babydaddy the year of his ND graduation to "Just please, don't be so pedestrian around my family", and overall, I do not like to be on dates.

Now and again, however, I will make plans to get together with someone for dinner and actually get a silly little smile about it and think "Gosh, that boy sure is sweet"..., and I will have to remind myself that odds are, they are the ones who know that "Getting together for dinner is not a date" . And even as I layer on the extremely fancy Umbrian Clay Mask from Sephora, even as I am plucking my eyebrows, making note to not do that thing I do where I start a sentence out loud in the middle of the place it already was in my mind, he is not thinking twice. Because getting together for dinner is not a date.

And then I have to have a serious blogging moment with myself after sending my daughter off with baby-daddy for the night because it's easier than getting a sitter sometimes and I have a...

No.

It's not, Nanda. Don't be creepy, OK? I myself swear by dinner not being a date so I better not dare go there, wonder if he'll hold the door for me, half expecting him to want to do something else after or walk me to my door, watch to see if he picks up the bill or not and trying to figure out what that means. No. This is not a date.

And anyway, I don't like dates... right?