I don’t let dates pick me up—never have and likely never will. Maybe I’m a control freak, or maybe I’m just smarter than most. Here’s why I make my own way to my dates.
- My mom told me not to let guys pick me up. Alright, she didn’t specifically advise this, I just took her “don’t get into cars with strangers” lesson to a whole different level. After all, what if she’s right about the danger? Now I’m in the car with a potential axe murderer. I’m a worrier, I know.
- I can’t leave when I want. I know I’m not alone in this thinking. If the date is a trainwreck, I can’t end the date early if we came together. Scenario time: I let him pick me up. We get to the restaurant and 45 torturous minutes go by before I finally come up with a lie to get me out of there. Since we came together, I have to commit to that lie the entire way home. That’s exhausting to keep up with. Some of you are judging me and thinking, “Why can’t she just stick it out?” Listen, ladies: Reclaiming my time. Reclaiming my time!
- Where I live might not be convenient. I always feel bad about this. Where I live may be further from the destination than he is. Tactically, it makes zero sense for my date to get me, especially when I’m totally capable of getting wherever we’re going myself.
- What if he drives like a mad person? I drive like a total moron. Whenever someone new gets in the car with me, I tell them I’m a crappy driver. Some people don’t know this about themselves and those people suck. Once upon a time, when I actually went on a real date, the guy who picked me up was a nightmare of a driver. I was not happy about getting back in the car with him and it kinda spoiled the evening for me.
- The date lasts way too long. Most dates are timed perfectly—anywhere from an hour to an hour an hour and a half is fine. However, a joint car ride adds more time. After a certain point, things just start falling apart. I’d rather not even go there.
- Car rides with someone you barely know are brutal. Car rides with someone you’re in a relationship with can be rough at first, so to hell with letting someone I barely know pick me up. Who controls the music? What if they’re the kind of person who basically lives out of their car? What if my jam comes on? I can’t sing along to it. What if you turn to small talk? Which brings up my next point…
- You run through talking points too quickly. My version of hell is a place where only small talk happens. I’m not good at it. Once, I talked about the clouds. The only thing that’s worse is riding in silence, which I’ve done before. I wanted to dive-roll out of the car. I’d rather drive myself and save conversation points for the heart of the date.
- The drive over is crucial mental prep time. You’ve already committed to the date by leaving the house. Hair is done, clothes are on, makeup is straight fire—you’re not backing out. So this pre-date time is for mental prep. Personally, I blast boss bitch songs that make me feel like Queen Bey. I treat dates like a football game that I’m trying to get hyped up for. It works.
- What if something happens and he needs to leave? Maybe he’s dipping out on you, who knows? What’s likelier (since you’re a queen) is that there’s an emergency and he needs to leave immediately. Yeah, OK, but what if you just ordered dessert and don’t want to leave yet (and Uber isn’t an option)? I’d be crabby if I didn’t get the dessert I wanted. I drive myself to curb dessert abandonment.
- The beginning of a date is a giant gray area. When he shows up, does he come to the door? Is honking disrespectful? Do I reach across the seat to hug him if he doesn’t get out of the car? Should I expect him to open my car door? Is he supposed to open the door when we get where we’re going? There are way too many questions here that need answering.
- End of date expectations is even worse. Now I have questions like, is he supposed to walk me up to my door? Can I just hop out of the car? If I do that, is waving goodbye weird? Or, if he walks me up, is just a hug OK? What if he tries to kiss me? The last question is a legit concern—I’m not a sheltered prude but I don’t like kissing on the first date. I need to give myself time to process how the date went and if I like the guy enough to see him again. So, him driving me home is too personal for me. Way too much pressure. Saying goodbye at the date gives a great buffer. Neither one of us is going to make too risky of moves because we’re in public. Give a hug, drive away, and figure out if you like the person enough to shove your tongue down their throat a different day. Sigh. Dating is impossible.