A satirical dating column.
Ten minutes into dinner, I knew that Ryan had attended Burning Man. Twenty minutes in, I knew he had been transformed by it. By dessert, I was wondering whether the transformation had left room for a second subject.
He had festival wristbands, photographs, and a detailed account of finding himself. I had a question about what he liked to do on an ordinary Sunday. He answered with another festival story. Apparently Sunday had also been transformed.
There is nothing wrong with an enthusiasm. A person who loves something can be excellent company. The difficulty begins when the enthusiasm arrives instead of the person and conducts the entire date on his behalf.
It could have been cryptocurrency, van life, a particular workout, or the coffee-making equipment he had recently installed. Any hobby can become a personality if nobody interrupts it early enough.
I tried asking what he had been curious about before the festival. He looked surprised, as though I had asked about a previous geological era. Then, briefly, he told me about learning to cook. It was the most interesting part of the evening because it sounded like a person remembering something, rather than a brochure defending itself.
The date did not become a romance. It did become a reminder that having a passion and making room for somebody else’s are separate skills.
If your date asks about your weekend, tell them. Then ask about theirs. Even a life-changing experience can survive a short interruption while the other person speaks.
