The other night, my friend Kristina went out on a dinner date with this guy she met on Hinge, Mark. Mark works in finance, surprise, surprise. After they met for drinks and hit it off, he texted her asking her out—for dinner.
(Side note: Smart Girls never go out for dinner dates as a first date, for the sole reason that if you walk into the restaurant and end up sitting in front of a guy you 100% don’t like, you’re literally stuck with him for at least an hour and a half, if you skip dessert. Therefore, Smart Girls go out for drinks first, so as not to waste any of our precious time, and only once we know there’s some sort of potential, we agree to dinner another time.)
The point is, Kristina was telling me about the dinner date while we were sipping Chateauneuf du Pape on my grey IKEA couch, when all of a sudden she pulls out her phone and asks me, begs me, to explain to her why Mark was suddenly being kind of…cold.
Kristina: Thanks for dinner last night, it was great 🙂
Mark: Yup, I love that place.
Kristina: Totally. I’ll be back
Mark: lol
Mark’s texts were short and sweet, not showing too much interest but not really pushing Kristina away, right? Next, we went over the whole date and there was nothing I could put my finger on. They laughed and drank—and Kristina promised she talked mostly about HIM—and they even stayed for dessert.
AND THEN, as we drank our wine, Kristina nonchalantly DROPPED THE BOMB.
“It was all going so well until the ketchup from my bacon cheeseburger spilled down my arm and onto my white blouse.”
I couldn’t believe my ears. What the HELL was she thinking?! My poor, poor Kristina had no idea that you NEVER order a cheeseburger on a FIRST dinner date. EVER. Any person that tells you otherwise is just wrong. I’m sorry. You can hate on these rules and say that they aren’t feminist, that women should be able to order whatever they want at a restaurant, that Mark is an asshole finance guy that judges women anyway, and you’d probably be totally right. BUT STILL. Kristina—and so many other women all over the world—don’t know the BASICS of dinner dating, starting with what NOT to order. And that is how the inspiration for this rule came about.
WHAT NOT TO EAT ON A FIRST DINNER DATE:
CHEESEBURGERS
ANY sandwiches for that matter. This includes sushi sandwiches. When you’re on a dinner date, you’re there for the company, NOT for the food. When you go out with your girlfriends or your mom, order a burger. Let the ketchup spill down your arm like our girl Kristina. Order extra onions. Ask for large fries and dip them in mayonnaise for all I care. But ABSOLUTELY not on a date.
GARLIC BREAD
Or anything way too garlicky. Just, no. You want to feel comfortable having the option to make out later, and garlic breath is NOT a good look—or smell.
WINGS
Basically anything you have to hold in your hand and chew off is a no-no.
MEAT
I just think that ordering a steak when you go to dinner on a first date isn’t ladylike. IT’S THE TRUTH, get over it.
TACOS
Tacos get all over the place and are just awkward to bite into. Order fajitas or a salad or guacamole or something.
SPAGHETTI
It’s the little things. Pasta can definitely be a good option on a dinner date, but order penne or bows or macaroni (which are easier to get onto your fork) instead of spaghetti, you know?
WHY?????
WHY, you ask? WHY can’t I order whatever I want? I’m a free woman. I believe in equality. I’m a feminist. Of course you are, and so am I. But I’m here to tell you the truth to your face, whether it’s politically correct or not. Men want a woman who is gentle and polite. Who treats herself like the Princess she is. I’m not saying to order the only salad on the menu, although that’s not a bad option. I’m saying order something that isn’t sticky or hard to handle, or something that makes you have garlic breath later, or something that’s just kind of gross to eat in front of someone.
Later on, once you’ve fallen in love with each other, you can move on to ordering less boring food. Kristina obviously didn’t know about this Smart Girl Rule, but now, thanks to her, you do.
And, just so you know, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten a cheeseburger in front of my husband to this day.
Xoxo,
SGK
