One of the more well-entrenched strategies of modern dating is that of the dinner date. That is, the really good dinner date, with excellent food at an excellent restaurant, soaked with excellent wine, and all being done to set the stage for the evening’s grand finale, which is, of course, El Loinsmack Excelente. Super seismic sexy time. Well, that plan is all well and swell, but for many of us lads, especially those who have crossed the 50-yard line of Life, this strategy is, at least physiologically, totally upside down.
Think about it. It’s always the same two-step; (1) Dinner. (2) Sex. Is this really the way we want to proceed? Let’s examine. Chances are, you’re not going to be dining lightly at the snazzy restaurant. Even if you pass on the appetizers (who has room for friggin’ appetizers any more?), you’re still going to eat a little starter bread and butter, maybe a salad, followed by the main dish, which will have a side of vegetables, some starch, and a big chunk of flesh/fish. Lubed by cocktails and/or wine throughout, the whole gastro-event will be quite likely topped off by dessert. The point here is simply that by the time you amble on out of the joint, you’re waddling. Your guts are loaded. All those little miners in your belly, they’re busting their asses off, chopping away at this onslaught of food and drink, all the while being rinsed by wave after wave of acids. In short, they’re busier than hell.
An hour later, you’re home, decked out in comfy clothes, and the urge to spawn, so strong before the triple-digit meal, is now being severely challenged by the urge to reach for the remote, turn on the idiot box, and head off to Flatline City. But you also know that shifting into this particular mode isn’t exactly going to charm the pants off your partner, even if her pants are already off. Especially if her pants are already off. She’ll see/smell/sense these first danger signs and instantly begin entertaining thoughts of re-pantsing. Yet, the chain gang in your gut is still wailing away, your body completely focused on food processing. And now, you’re gonna ask it to do WHAT? The brain, completely attuned to digestion, groans in horror. It’s not the first time it’s been asked to submit to the lusty whims of “Little Richard.” And who, it will ask, wants to hear a bunch of sloshing sounds while love-making?
So next time, try this reversal. (1) Sex. (2) Dinner.* Tell her to come over, where you’ll greet her dressed in your sexiest sweats. After wine/drinks/ small talk, you then (1) seduce, (2) ravage, and (3) lay in bed in blissed out zonkitude. And now, what are you? That’s right. Ravenous! NOW is when you go to dinner! With all sexual tension gone, you both are free to eat, drink and be extremely merry. Then, and only then, is it safe to go home and assume the “let’s pass out in bed to Sports Center” position. (*May not be best approach for a first date).