Let’s be real. With Instagram Direct Message, Tinder, and Bumble, there has to be at least a fifty percent increase in the worst first dates. At least. But forget the statistics and let’s talk about what’s actually going down.

#1 – So you’ve texted over Tinder for a while and have finally agreed to meet at that café two blocks from your place. It’s pouring rain, and when he walks in, he’s dripping wet but, in his dark jeans and V-neck sweater, he looks better than he did in his profile picture. Boy, have you lucked out. He takes a seat across from you, you order identical Americanos, and begin the most interesting conversation of the year. It bounces from feminism and equality to existentialism to his super cool profession as a (successful) film director, and you’ve pretty much decided by that point that he’s perfect for you. “Oh, by the way,” he suddenly adds, “You should know I’m engaged.” 

 #2 – “Just like Kim Kardashian or even Kylie Jenner,” he says. “Really just a perfect woman with a perfect body.” You take another sip of your drink and miserably think of that burger you’re still waiting on. Maybe if you think hard enough about it you can telepathically communicate to the chef to hurry the heck up and bring the food out already so this guy will shut up. Would that even be possible for him? You try to pay attention to the ridiculous conversation, again. “And that’s why,” your date continues, “My ex is the most beautiful woman I have seen to this day.” 

#3 – “LISTEN, BUDDY,” you shout at your clearly upset date, “You CANNOT expect me to kiss you when you farted thirty seconds ago!”

#4 – You’re at the MoMA and have been proudly showing your date around. You enthusiastically gesture at the folklore collection, the portrait pictures, and even the painting you’ve helped cop. He seems pensive, though. Is he enjoying the private tour? Are you talking too much? Breathing too hard? You stop your blabbering for a second and ask him if everything is going alright—to which he responds, “Yeah. I was just thinking to myself that you’re a pretty interesting and even knowledgeable person for a woman.”

#5 – He hasn’t been back for over 13 minutes now (yes, you are counting). You wonder if perhaps he’s getting ready for a dine and dash but you highly doubt that after remembering that the only place he’s dashed to all five times was the bathroom. Maybe he’s got another date hidden in there somewhere? Then you get the message: “Sorry. Can’t come out. Explosive diarrhea.”

#6  – “So you’re saying you don’t like me because I’m a feminist?” you ask. He gives a single, confident nod. “Yes, I just told you. I knew a feminist once and she was weird.”

# 7 – You accept the drink he’s bought you but, upon taking a closer look, you notice tiny bubbles at the bottom of the glass (abnormally fizzy bubbles for a Diet Coke) so you hand him back the glass and nonchalantly mention that you’ve changed your mind and will go order a Sprite instead. As you walk away from the table he cries out, “Okay! I did spike your drink with Ketamine!” and then proceeds to drink the soda himself. 

#8 – And finally, after having talked about himself for over four hours, he asks you your second question of the night: “What was your name again?”

#9 – It’s been 1 hour, 7 minutes, and 23 seconds and he has finally stopped talking about his life goal to marry a Vietnamese woman—which you are not. The check comes, you hastily drop your half of the bill, and grab your jacket. Just as you’re about to zip up and run away, however, he offers to walk you to your car—which you can’t refuse given how dark it is outside—so you reluctantly agree to another ten minutes of Vietnamese Mania. All of a sudden, he’s leaning in for a kiss and you’re freaking out. Your half-Canadian, half-Danish self will not be defiled like this. No ma’am. So you give the backbend asana a go and swerve the kiss.

#10 – Your date has been going pretty well for once. He’s funny, intelligent, and very gentle. You’re seriously considering asking him out on a second date. All at once he is now taking your hands in his, leaning in, and you really believe this will be the moment—until he whispers, “I just got out of prison for manslaughter.” Maybe you should have swiped left.