Christmas Lights and Land Mines
“Is asking a girl to go see Christmas lights being too forward?”
“Too forward?”
“I mean, is it too pushy? I’ve been talking to this girl I met a week ago, and I don’t know if I should pick a more neutral location for a first date.”
I wish we’d had this conversation two days ago — that would have been the day before I invited a girl I don’t really know to go look at Christmas lights.
Because I do things without thinking like that, sometimes.
“Explain the difference,” I say.
“Coffee, cafes, they send a safe, secure message. Cafes say, ‘We are two people getting to know each other. These mugs, cups, and comfortable chairs are conduits through which we will discuss a variety of meaningless topics — and these will help us discern whether or not we are romantically compatible. Relax — you do not have to be invested in this.’”
“That makes sense.”
“But think about asking someone out for a drink instead. Maybe as a first date you say, ‘I know a great wine bar we can go to. Let’s have a glass over some food.’”
“I have said those exact words before.”
“To a woman?”
“To a woman.”
“Impressive.”
“Oh shut up. Continue.”
“Wine bars send a different vibe. More subtle, perhaps a little underhanded. Intimate lighting, quiet conversation, more expensive. Wine bars say, ‘I want to find out more about you than you are willing to admit sober.’”
“Well, that, or ‘I do not have the courage to talk to you without alcohol in my system.’”
It feels uncomfortable saying that aloud, somehow.
“Yeah, I guess you could take that angle.”
“What about restaurants?”
“Restaurants are a comfortable middle-ground. At a restaurant, you have the option of going either way — neutral meeting, or romantic push. It’s why they make for perfect third dates. Time, circumstance, and chemistry will dictate which direction the scale tips.”
“Depending on the choice of restaurant.”
“Of course.”
“And… Christmas lights?”
He thinks about it. Strokes his chin. Finds an answer. Nods.
“Christmas lights say, ‘Can we fucking date already? When do we start holding hands? Sign me up.’”
Shit.
“I mean, as a first date, here in Tokyo, where Christmas is a holiday almost exclusively for couples? How could you see it any other way, you know?” He shakes his head. Breathes a sigh of relief. Dodges a bullet. “Man, am I glad we had this conversation. I could have really stepped on a land mine there.”
What I know about land mines: as long as your foot remains on the pressure plate, it won’t explode.
What I don’t know about land mines: how to disarm one that you find yourself standing on.
“Well,” I say, “Just uh… just glad to help, buddy.”
