Before I meet a first date for the first time, I have a ritual: I send my roommate and/or best friend as much of their name as I have, their phone number, their place of employment if I know it, where we’ll be, and a screen shot (or three) of their photo. If I ever go to their house, this is repeated for safe measure, with their address included. And I always check in with my roommate/best friend when I leave (or if I’m deciding to stay).
Because I’m me, I usually wind up telling my dates this – if not on date one, then later. Not to scare them into not murdering me, but because a related topic comes up.
And they all respond with the same thing: “Wait, really? But why? Why would you even be alone with me if you thought I was an axe murderer?”
And there are a lot of reasons why. I could talk about being date raped with them, or how a date when I was 18 gave me some really good advice that I follow, or that they should assume many woman they date do the same thing. But this comic really says it best:
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