I’m thinking about making him dinner for date number two. Is that too soon? Apparently, feeding someone becomes a complicated social decision when you might want to kiss them.
On paper, it sounds simple: I make dinner, he comes over, we eat. People have been managing this arrangement for centuries without convening a committee. Yet add the words “second date,” and suddenly a perfectly ordinary meal seems to need clearance.
I like the idea of having time to talk without a server appearing just as one of us asks a decent question. And making dinner sounds nice. That’s the entire appeal. I’m not proposing a joint checking account over the salad.
Still, inviting him over feels different from meeting him somewhere. It’s my space, my cooking, and possibly more of an occasion than I mean it to be. I want it to feel easy, which is difficult to arrange while wondering whether I’m making it weird.
Maybe he’d just hear “dinner” and think, Great, dinner. An interpretation I respect and would love to borrow.
I haven’t decided. For now, the invitation is still a question: would you like me to make you dinner? I’m trying to figure out whether I can ask it without adding, “Please don’t read too much into the side dish.”
