It was the first week back on campus my sophomore year, and the residence life office was having an event in my building — painting and potting plants — an arts and crafts activity that resident assistants seem to love to put together.
I had just finished painting my pot for a new plant in my room when I got a text from a friend that she was outside my building and we should go get dinner. I was in sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt, and my slippers.
I thought nothing of my outfit when I ran upstairs to change from slippers to sneakers. When I came back downstairs, with my hair a mess I might add, she told me we weren’t just going to the dining hall for dinner, we were going on a double date – a double dining hall date.
It turned out that while I was painting that random potted plant, she’d been on Hinge, matched with a guy who transferred to our school, and planned to meet him at the dining hall (and told him to bring a friend).
I asked if I should change, but she insisted it was fine and before I knew it we were walking in the dining hall doors. Of course, we swiped ourselves in, but I didn’t think twice about it since we’d planned on getting dinner there anyway.
For those of you who don’t go to Boston University, it might be helpful to know that the dining hall is two stories and always crowded.
We walked up to the second floor and I turned to her to ask if she knew what the guys looked like. She said she kind of knew what the one looked like — based solely on his Hinge profile — but the other guy was a mystery.
We walked past a table of two guys twice. The first time I commented that one guy was attractive, and the second time she realized the guy sitting with him was the one she matched with on Hinge.
After an awkward hello, we sat down next to them and chatted. As far as first dates went, this honestly wasn’t the worst I’d been on, though I wished I’d been in something a little cuter.
Whether it was the sweatpants I was wearing, or the fact that we really were just not compatible, the guy I was set up with and I never went out again. As for the other two, they dated for awhile, but we’ve since lost touch so I couldn’t tell you how their relationship panned out.
After four years of undergrad, I’ve realized that a lot of the dates I’ve been on aren’t so different from the ones my friends have experienced. Is each type of date some kind of right of passage that gives you the opportunity to learn and grow? If nothing else, a lot of these dates have taught me what I don’t want in a partner.
My friends and I have met our fair share of frogs, so here’s some of the not-so-romantic dates we’ve found ourselves on – that you might find yourself on in your early twenties.
The Never-Ending Date
It was Mady’s first year of college. She was 19 and out with her friends when an attractive man approached her and asked for her number. He looked nice enough, so she gave it to him. One week later, a date was set. They were supposed to meet for breakfast at Tatte on a Saturday, a restaurant that is busiest on the weekends and notoriously doesn’t take reservations.
After 20 minutes of waiting and no open tables, the two decided to take their coffees to another coffee shop down the street in hopes of finding some food to eat. They went to a second Tatte and still had no luck. The third restaurant’s wait time was over an hour. They ended up at a Cava that had just opened. They went through the line, he paid for their food and they sat down to eat. After another hour (neither one of them finished their food), he mentioned that he had to stop at a rock climbing store close by to pick something up for his rock climbing hobby (ick).
Afterwards, he asked if she wanted to go to the Museum of Fine Arts. At this point, it had been hours, but she liked the MFA and decided to go along. But then he proceeded to “man-splain” every artwork there, and after four hours of hanging out and half a cava bowl, Mady left the date. Her excuse was “a meeting ,” but in all honesty, she was hungry.
He walked her back towards campus, and she gave him a stiff wave goodbye. A couple days later, he texted her to try to get her to go out for Valentine’s Day, but between the never-ending marathon of a date and the 10 year age gap (that she found out about later), it was a no for her.
Three Years, No Vegetables
Gabriela’s relationship started like many modern romances — on Tinder. They went on a lunch date to Shake Shack, where their food took over an hour to be ready, but the two chatted and made the most of the inconvenient wait time. Two burgers and a couple dates later, they decided to start dating.
The relationship ended up being long distance for the majority of the next three years, and over time, Gabriela started to notice something strange during their dinner dates. The guy she met on Tinder didn’t eat vegetables — like ever. “Anti-veggie boy” would go out for dinner or lunch, but refused to eat any fruits or vegetables. If a dish came with a side of anything green, he would replace the green with mashed potatoes. When I asked if he ever ate vegetables, she said only if he prepared them, but even then it was a rare occurrence.
Their relationship didn’t end because he didn’t eat fruits and vegetables. It ended because he wasn’t ready for a more “adult” commitment. And Gabriela couldn’t help but wonder if his immaturity showed up first in his distaste of anything healthy.
Runaway Rob
Milena, 24, went on a Hinge date a couple years ago. She’d matched with a guy from Carnegie Mellon University and agreed to meet him for ice cream at a place three blocks from her apartment. When she got there, it was awkward — he wasn’t very good at holding a conversation. But she admitted that she wasn’t all that into him either. So at the end of the date when he offered to walk her home and she agreed – three blocks really wasn’t that bad, even in the middle of winter.
Once they arrived, he decided it was too cold to walk back to his place, 25 minutes away, so he decided to run. “Runaway Rob” didn’t wait until she was inside to start his run. He started to jog away from her. And as he ran away in his denim jeans, he took with him any sliver of interest she might have had in him. The two never saw each other again.