I’m often convinced of the merits of the argument that if one of a thing is good, then more of that thing is better: glasses of good red; excellent tiramisu; glorious sex. But I’ve recently found myself in the position to consider whether dating falls into the same category, and whether it is, in fact, acceptable to date more than one chap at once.
I, perhaps understandably given my history in general and this year in particular, have a relaxed approach to the multiple dating thing. I have few qualms about going for drinks with several different men, in the knowledge (or, vain hope) that things might lead elsewhere with any of them. And I feel the same way about those chaps with whom I’m having that drink - I have no problems with their taking out women who aren’t me. At such early stages where dalliances are still so casual, a drink is just a drink. Before anything has gone anywhere; before the getting-to-know-each-other stage where skeletons and emotional attachments to exes have revealed themselves, everything’s fair game.
But while my attitude is definitely at the laissez-faire end of the spectrum, and were I living somewhere like NYC would probably be accepted as The Done Thing, I’m not sure that British men - even the supposedly / comparatively* sophisticated London types with whom most of my dates happen - would feel the same way.
Just to make the case that I’m not an utterly shameless harlot, I’d like to take the opportunity that glasses of wine are all that’s being shared. Whilst the diary’s filled with social appointments, there is definitely no naked naughtiness happening with any of them (and, as of many months now, not even Speckled naughtiness. I’m growing up. Sort of).
For, whilst I wouldn’t consider a glass of wine to be anywhere on the infidelity scale, I don’t know that the boys would have the same approach, and I don’t know whether the comparative chastity would be enough to convince my dates that I wasn’t playing the part of London’s sluttiest strumpet.
There is part of me that likes to think that, were I to be brazenly open about the fact that there were several chaps on the agenda, the guys’ inherent competitive natures might rise to the fore, viewing the situation as a challenge rather than an insult. But one never does know…
Of course, failing everything else, there is always, and reliably, that extra glass of red.
*delete as appropriate
My year in going to the cinema
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