The Dating Detox (37 page)

A key part of your night, and one that will dictate how the next hour (or five) will go. That’s why you need to meet him with your game face: a carefully-arranged facial expression that doesn’t reveal how nervous / excited / thrilled / bored / disappointed you really are to be there. One that helps you appear the Three Cs: Calm, Cool and in Control. A basic game face: unfurrowed brow, chin up, mouth arranged in a serene nearly-smile.

Don’t worry about talking straight away. Not rushing to fill a silence shows self-assurance. Plus, wittering undermines the Three Cs. I should know. I am one of nature’s witters: on dates, at work, in lifts, anywhere. As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned to shutthehellup. It turns out the world doesn’t stop turning if no one is talking. Who knew?

Having said that, try not to be a total mute for the entire night. If you can’t think of anything to say, try something like ‘Can you make conversation for a while? I don’t think I’ll find my funny until the second drink’. If he laughs, and you’re feeling cocky, add ‘And try to be interesting, okay?’. Faux-arrogance is amusing. And it’ll keep him on his toes.

Anyway, he should ask what you want to drink, and that’s an easy conversation-starter. I’m assuming you’re meeting for a drink, and perhaps dinner. If you’re meeting for a game of rounders in the park, then more power to you, sister. This guide will not be of any help to you at all. If he seems stuck for words, take charge: arch a knowing eyebrow and say ‘Oh, I’ll have a
[insert favourite drink here], thanks for asking’. This is a funny, kind icebreaker, and the Three Cs. Jackpot.

And if you can’t do any of the above, then laugh. Because you have a long night ahead of you, sweetcheeks.

When it comes to conversation, don’t just lie there. I know you’re special, you know you’re special, but unless you show or at least hint at how unique and hilarious and memorable you really are, then he’ll never know…because he’ll never bother to find out. He’ll end the date, go home, watch the sports recap and never think about you again.

If you say you like ‘going out to dinner, going to the cinema, having a bit of a laugh, hanging out with my friends, going to the gym’ then frankly, you sound like everyone I’ve ever met. Including my mother. If you say ‘I like watching Sex And The City with the sound turned down so I can dub in my own conversation. I like eating burgers layer by layer. I like painting guyliner on my male friends when they are drunk and easily influenced’ then you sound like someone I’d remember. And frankly, want to see again. (Actually, what are you doing later?)

However, being unique doesn’t require revealing absolutely everything about your life and history. I’ve learned, through trial and ohGoddidIjustsaythat error, that dating someone is like the dance of the seven veils. At every date, you drop a veil and
tada!
reveal a little more. You are a meal of many courses to be savoured, not a pureed foodshake to be gulped in one. So don’t unzip your chest, pluck out your heart and soul and lay them naked and pulsating on the table between you. Everyone’s got sad stories and heartbreak and gripes and secrets. Keep all that juicy stuff till later.

Just talk. You’re good at it. You’ve been doing it since you were two. Ask questions. Tell stories you know are funny, like the time that you reverse-parked into a dumpster during your driving
test. Be coy. Be confident. Be wry. Be unusual. Smirk, frown questioningly, arch your eyebrow and laugh freely. It’s called flirting and damnit, it’s fun.

From the heart-hammering, hand-shaking school of nervousness? I feel your pain. Nerves suck. Sometimes there is nothing you can do but ride them out. They will disappear eventually. You’re smart, ridiculously good-looking and totally in control, so just smile and wait for him to talk. And remember to breathe.

So he’s got kids. Or scabies. Or suggests you head to his for a nightcap at 8.41pm. Or he voted for the BNP, and tells you—at length—why you should too. Or his table manners make you want to vomit, or he still lives with his ex-girlfriend, or he spends all night looking at himself in the mirror above the bar. Shit happens, my friend. Discovering you don’t like him on the first or second date is nothing to get upset about. Chalk it up to experience.

Some dates will be bad. This is a fact. Frankly, some men will be bad, too. Just keep your wits about you, and figure out what he’s really like rather than what you
want
him to be like. A lot of time is wasted wishing/pretending a guy is smarter/keener/kinder than he really is. You need to look out for signs. They’re not that hard to spot. One idiot wore a tshirt saying ‘I taught that girlfriend that thing you like’ on a date with me. Such a hilarious lack of judgment just made me laugh till I had tears in my eyes. He probably thought I was mad. Hey ho.

The point is that every guy is the wrong one until he’s the right one. That doesn’t make it any easier, especially if you feel stupid for liking him when he wasn’t that nice, or used if he
seemed to like you and then stopped calling, or—heaven forbid—in love with him when he’s not with you. Don’t worry about it, and don’t focus on it. Some men simply aren’t very nice. Some dogs aren’t very nice either, but that doesn’t mean you should never pet one again.

Thinking about bad dates, bad men and bad feelings is addictive, like picking scabs and playing with candle wax. But you are stronger than you think, so just put those bad thoughts down, flip them the metaphorical finger and look ahead to the next guy/night out/drink. Batter up.

The last two minutes of your date is just about as important as the first two minutes. If you want to kiss him, and you haven’t, and you are bored of watching him work up the nerve to make a move, just look him straight in the eye and say ‘I think you should kiss me now’. Seriously. Yeah, it takes some cojones—the drink will help with that—but I think you can do it.

You need to decide if you like him. That’s the only thing that really matters. Not if he likes you (he does), not if you look good (you do) or if you’re being funny (you are). But if you’d like to spend a Sunday morning lying in bed with him, if you can laugh adoringly at him and he at you, and if he can make you gasp and moan like a hot bath.

So once the date starts, forget how you look and whether you’ve got the Three Cs. They’re just there to help you feel prepared, so you don’t work yourself into a frenzy of pressure and nerves. Does he seem kind? Smart? Funny? Interesting? Interested? Do you want to rip his clothes off? That part, no guide can help you with. That part is up to you.

Thank you to Keshini Naidoo, who loves a man named Steff in a rolled-sleeve linen suit almost as much as she loves Sass; Maxine Hitchcock for her fantastic support; Alex Stone, Alice Sumpster, Alida Stewart, Bennary Smith, Amy Eastall, Catherine Ryan, Caroline Morrison, Sarah Gibson, Jackie Cook, Devi Govender, Jean Cahill, Yvette Quane, Elsa Stewart and Valerie Nestor for their enthusiastic feedback, encouragement and/or participation in ‘Name That Bastard’
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; Conor Barry for insisting on a cameo; Victoria Hannon and Matt Hallett for their copysmarts and support; Cat Cobain at Transworld for her brilliant advice; Laura Longrigg at MBA Literary Agents for her wise guidance and general loveliness; my parents Sue and Bill Burgess for being hilarious and wonderful; Paul Barry for being so damn perfect and most of all my beautiful sister Anika Burgess who read it first and thought it was funny.

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For details of ‘Name that Bastard, Part Deux’, go to www.gemmaburgess.co.uk

Gemma Burgess moved to London at the age of 22. She started working as an advertising copywriter, and applied herself more wholeheartedly to having a good time. Eight years later she decided to distil some of her experiences into
The Dating Detox:
the book for women with confidence, wit and style but absolutely no clue whatsoever how to know the real thing when they see it. (Love, that is.) She lives in London.

To find out more about Gemma go to www.gemmaburgess.co.uk

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