Here’s proof that you can never read a guy, or never know what he’s really thinking. Last week, I participated in The New York Post‘s “Meet Market,” a weekly feature that sets up couples, and then reports on their dates. Aside from a horrible photo of me in a high-circulation newspaper (really…are my cheeks really that big and shiny?), the experience was enjoyable because I got a free meal, and for the first time ever, I also saw the honest report of the man’s side of the date. And let me tell you, it wasn’t at all what I expected. For starters, the moment I saw the photo, I knew my perception was off. During our date, a photographer came and had us act out different scenarios, for example, where we’re both happy and the date went great, or if I gave the evening a bad report, I would look bored and he would look amused, etc, etc. I was fairly sure that I would open my paper to see a picture of us both smiling. Wrong. There I am, beaming like a fool and my date, Travis, looking horrified. Oh no, I thought. He’s said something awful about me, I imagined, before I could even begin reading the article. I had been so incredibly confident about the night. I felt like I won him over—he smiled and laughed a lot, told me I was attractive, and even texted me some super sweet things afterward (mainly that he had a great time, and would have liked to take me out for a nightcap but he didn’t know blind date etiquette). When I didn’t hear from him a few days later, my best friend said, “Eh, I’d give him three to four full days.” Fair enough. When there was no word then it was, “Wait until the article comes out. He’s probably just scared you didn’t like him, so he’s waiting to find out.” Okay, fine. I’ll wait.
So, imagine my surprise when Travis threw me a curve ball. He didn’t call because his mind was on an ex, one that he had only gotten back together with a few days before. “Though I’m technically single,” Travis wrote, “an old flame kind of came back into my life after I agreed to go on the date! I didn’t bring it up on my date with Leo, because exes make for terrible date conversation, and I didn’t have the heart to ruin her evening.” Phew, at least it wasn’t something I did. In all fairness, I maybe left out the, uh, kind of crucial bit about me moving to Paris in September. Oopsies.
I imagine, however, that without this article, I would have ended up texting him anyhow, and getting wishy-washy responses, and spend my time trying to rationalize them. This experience just goes to show you that you really can never read your dates or know how much they like you! Women can be good secret-keepers, but so are men. [NY Post]