By our third date at the same diner next to a gas station, I was beginning to appreciate how precisely a romance could be located. We had chemistry. We had equal travel time. We had laminated menus, again.
I'm 30, she's 28, and we live about 50 minutes apart. Before we started meeting, she explained that neither of us should have to travel farther than the other. That sounded fair. I wasn't looking for a woman who would do all the driving while I waited comfortably near my own front door.
The difficulty turned out to be geographical. Our exact halfway point is a depressing little diner beside a gas station. After three dates, we had a regular restaurant, selected entirely for its coordinates.
I like her. That's the inconvenient part. She's fun to be around, and the chemistry between us is great. If I weren't enjoying her company, I wouldn't be trying to negotiate access to a different restaurant. I'd simply have three disappointing meals and a fairly straightforward decision behind me.
So I offered to drive to her neighborhood for our next date. I wasn't asking her to put in extra effort; I was volunteering to put in more myself. In my mind, this solved the problem. We could go somewhere else, and she wouldn't have to travel any farther to make it happen.
She said no. She doesn't want to establish a pattern where one person makes more effort. Apparently, even a journey I'd offered to make could set an unfortunate precedent. I had thought I was suggesting dinner. She was considering the long-term implications of my mileage.
I tried another version: we could alternate who did the driving. One date closer to her, another closer to me. The effort would even out over time, and our choice of venue might finally extend beyond this particular stretch of road. But that, too, defeated the principle as she understood it.
That's where I've got stuck. I agree with the idea that dating should involve effort from both people. I just hadn't realized equality would have to be demonstrated separately on every trip. There's a difference, to me, between always expecting someone to come to you and choosing to go to them once because you want to take them somewhere.
Still, we've only been on three dates. I don't know whether this is a rule she'll eventually relax or one I'd be arguing with every time we made plans. Pushing back already feels awkward; quietly accepting it leaves me hoping she'll change something she has been perfectly clear about.
For now, the woman I want to see again is still the woman who makes this frustrating. I'd like to take her somewhere without laminated menus and truck drivers sleeping in the parking lot. So far, my offer to do the extra driving hasn't got us any farther than halfway.
