I bought a bag of freeze-dried beef-liver treats before my date because her poodle, Katie, was coming along. The plan was simple: save them for the end of our walk and let Katie have her little moment. I was, after all, hoping to make a good impression on both members of the party.
We walked for about an hour. I offered to pick up after Katie and carried the waste bag back to the trailhead to dispose of it. We joked, had a good conversation and seemed to share plenty of interests. I was strongly attracted to my date, which made the ordinary business of walking and talking feel pleasantly charged.
At the end of the walk, I brought out Katie’s treats. My date had me feed them to Katie, and the poodle accepted her payment with the professional focus of someone who understands a good arrangement.
We exchanged phone numbers. I asked my date if I could give her a hug. She accepted and complimented the hug, so I asked if I could give her another. She accepted that one too. On the way home, though, my mind started holding its own post-date review: Had I been too forward? Was she interested, or had I simply mistaken a pleasant afternoon for a promising one?
A small moment, not a secret formula
A planned treat can be a considerate way to include the dog who came along, but it cannot tell us what another person feels. Nor does one accepted hug automatically answer the question about another; asking again gave her room to choose. Those details don’t guarantee a second date. They do make the interaction easier to read as it happens: kindness offered, interest expressed, and space left for an answer. She invited me to the concert, though I can’t know what prompted her to do so.
While I was writing my update, she texted that she’d enjoyed the date. She joked about the fact that nobody had been murdered and invited me to a concert on Friday. I accepted. My mental review was briefly dismissed, though apparently not permanently: a day later, I admitted I was nervous about the upcoming date. I planned to be myself and try not to overthink it. The concert was still ahead of us, and so, evidently, was my brain’s next round of paperwork.
