by He Wasn’t, But He Certainly Acted Like It
Bohiney Magazine | The London Prat
The Date Where I Completely Misjudged Everything
Saturday night, and I’m still processing what happened on what was supposed to be my first date with someone named Marcus. I met him at a gallery opening in Soho. He was wearing a perfectly tailored shirt, knew the names of at least six contemporary artists, and spent twenty minutes discussing the semiotics of color theory. I was intrigued. Also slightly confused, but intrigued.
He asked me to dinner. I said yes. Everything seemed normal. Then the date happened, and absolutely nothing was normal.
The Date Itself
We went to this tremendously fancy restaurant in Covent Garden. The kind where the menu has no prices because if you have to ask, you can’t afford it. Marcus ordered the vegetable tasting menu and spent the evening discussing why meat is essentially a “statement about masculine dominance over nature.” I ordered fish because I was hungry and also because I wanted to see how he’d react.
He looked disappointed. Not angry, but genuinely disappointed, like I’d failed some sort of test about personal alignment with his worldview.
As the evening progressed, I became increasingly convinced that he was either: A) Gay and hadn’t realized it yet, or B) Asexual and had mistaken me for someone interested in purely intellectual communion. Every time I made what I thought was a flirtatious comment, he responded with a lecture about something. I said his eyes were nice. He explained the historical context of eye contact in Western culture.
The Moment of Clarity
By dessert, I just asked directly: “Are you gay?” He looked absolutely shocked. Like I’d suggested something wildly inappropriate. He said, “No, absolutely not. Why would you think that?” I said, “Because you haven’t made any attempt to flirt with me all evening, you’re discussing color theory instead of showing any interest in me romantically, and you ordered a vegetable tasting menu at a place with a three-star Michelin rating.”
He said, “Those aren’t indicators of sexuality. Those are indicators of taste and education.” Which, fair point, but also completely missing my point.
I looked up the satirical news about modern dating later and realized I’m not alone. Apparently, there’s an entire category of men who present as completely uninterested in women while claiming heterosexuality. They’re not gay. They’re just aggressively intellectual and emotionally unavailable.
The Awkward Conclusion
The check came. He paid, which was nice. Then he said something like, “This was intellectually stimulating. Perhaps we could do this again?” I said, “I don’t think that’s going to work.” He looked genuinely confused, like he couldn’t understand why a woman wouldn’t want to spend more time being lectured at by an attractive man who showed no actual interest in her.
He followed up with a text message: “Enjoyed our conversation about phenomenological approaches to consciousness. Your comments were insightful.” Not: “I had fun.” Not: “I’d like to see you again.” Just: “Your comments were insightful.”
The Aftermath
I’ve since learned that Marcus is dating someone now. A man. Which doesn’t necessarily mean anything. But it does suggest that maybe my gaydar was working, and Marcus just hadn’t figured out his own orientation yet. Or maybe he’s asexual and found someone who’s also asexual and they have the world’s most boring relationship where they discuss philosophy and never touch.
What I’ve learned from this experience is that modern dating is increasingly complicated by people who are fundamentally confused about what they want. Marcus wanted intellectual connection but presented himself as heterosexual and single. That’s a recipe for confusion.
Next time someone spends an entire first date discussing color theory instead of flirting, I’m just going to assume they’re not interested and move on. My instincts were right. He just wasn’t ready to admit his own instincts.
For dating disasters, check The Daily Mash.
SOURCE: https://bohiney.com/
