Twice in a row, a guy asked me out and proposed the same general arrangement: we would meet first, then look around for a café. Apparently, the first activity on the date would be locating the date.
Both times, I said sorry, I couldn’t go. To me, an invitation should come with at least a suggestion of where we’re going. Coffee is already a pleasantly modest undertaking. I don’t need a reservation, a tasting menu, or a small orchestra acknowledging my arrival. A café name would do.
I realize some people hear “we’ll figure it out” and picture an easy afternoon wandering together. I hear it and wonder why we couldn’t figure it out while we were already discussing it. We have reached the planning portion of the conversation. This seems like an excellent time to make a plan.
There’s also the practical matter of how I organize my life. I need my schedule settled at least a week ahead. A friend is coming to visit at the end of the month, and I already have a list of things we can do. Nobody who knows me should be surprised that I have opinions about an unassigned coffee location.
What bothers me is the feeling that someone has issued an invitation and left the remaining work floating between us. If I ask a friend to hang out, I expect to contribute more than my eventual physical presence. I hold a date to roughly the same standard.
Still, I’m questioning my reaction because I declined before meeting either man. Maybe choosing somewhere together would have been perfectly pleasant. Maybe their idea of casual simply clashes with mine before either of us has ordered anything.
Is that enough reason to pass on a first date? Or am I taking a vague invitation too seriously? I’m open to being told I’m particular. I do, after all, have a list ready for a visit that hasn’t happened yet.
