Two Dates or Not Two Dates, That is the Question

When is a date a date? Is meeting for coffee ever a date? Or has “getting coffee” become a whole event separate from dates themselves?

Is a sexual escapade always a date? Or can activities that lead to sex be separated also?

I once had a girl I’d been sleeping with for two months get upset with me for calling a romantic dinner on Lake Tahoe that I paid for a date. On the other hand, I still laugh at the time a coworker told me our friendly drink after work was her first date with a woman.

It was in this confused state of mind that I set up “meetings” with two women in one day. The first, whom I will call Folklorica, I met on an online dating site. I messaged her because we both were in the same town in Mexico at the same time this past summer, even though our paths never crossed. Our online conversations revolved around our mutual interest in Mexican folklore, and eventually we decided to meet for coffee. 

The problem is, I don’t actually drink coffee. I always feel so awkward asking people out to do something I won’t partake in, but asking someone out for tea doesn’t roll off of the tongue, and 11 a.m. was way too early for a martini, even for me. Besides, my friends have told me “Let’s go out for coffee,” is an expression, not a requirement to consume. So there I sat, with my tea, wondering if I was about to have a date, or simply a friendly meet and greet.

The easy solution to my conundrum would be to simply ask Folklorica, but, being the lesbian that I am, I refused to take the easy way out. We had a great time chatting about everything else in our lives, but I could not bring myself to ask if we were on a date. I left an hour later, still wondering.

“Meeting” number two, on the other hand, was labeled as a date from the onset. I posted an ad on Craigslist specifically asking for someone to take me out on a date. The Massage Therapist responded with sexy images and witty banter, so I set up a date to get drinks with her later in the day. Sitting outside, sipping my martini (it had finally reached 5 o’clock), I enjoyed the security of the label this meeting had. After a couple hours of conversation, she paid the bill and we ended our date with talk of going on another one soon. 

At the end of the day, I still don’t know what constitutes a date, or if it even matters what you call an encounter. All I know is that I am excited to go on many more of them.  

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