I dated sporadically and unsuccessfully in college, fluctuating between a lot of tears and frustration and not being able to understand why I was so unlovable and gleefully listening to other people b-tch about their relationships while I wore full-on acne masks to bed in a comforter covered in Cheez-it dust.
I kind of always assumed first dates were like Tim Burton movies without Johnny Depp or getting famous through Myspace: they don’t happen anymore. Or like recycling: something people talk about doing and then never actually do. (Just kidding! I recycle more than I’ve ever been happy about a first date!)