We Sent a Guy on a Blind Date—Here’s What He Remembered About Her Afterward

Editor’s note: In one of our brainstorming meetings, we started discussing how men probably pay way less attention to how you look on a first date than you think they do. But of course, we couldn’t really know this for sure—so we decided to have one of our male writers go on a date with a woman he’d never seen before (even online) and ask him afterward how much he remembered about her (without giving him so much as a hint that there would be a pop quiz). Here’s what he wrote about the experience.

Until a couple of weeks ago, I had never been on a blind date. Most of you probably haven’t been, either, because it’s the 21st Century and we don’t have to go on them. If a friend wants you to go out with one of their friends, all you have to do is ask, and they can show you a few pictures culled from Facebook. Or you can creepily search Google and various social media platforms until you find out something about them.

I have to be honest: When Women’s Health asked me to go on a blind date, I was hesitant to accept the assignment.

First dates give me anxiety, and to go on one with someone I had never lain eyes on seemed like it could and would result in more awkwardness than usual.

But I had just read Amy Poehler’s book, and so I was like “Yes, please!” Also, I’ve got to start putting myself out there at some point, unless I want to die alone, which doesn’t seem ideal for me. (I’m severely allergic to cats.)

I posted on Facebook that I was looking for a blind date, and my friend Billy set me up with Liz, a fellow Penn State grad.

Everything went well, but there was a twist: My editors at Women’s Health were planning (unbeknownst to me) to give me and my date a post-date questionnaire to see how my memory of her stacked up. Here’s how I filled out my survey:

And here are the real answers from Liz:

I found myself guessing on a lot of the questions that required more visual observance. I could picture Liz in my head, but I hadn’t spent a lot of time during the date making a mental list of what she had been wearing. We had made a lot of eye contact, but I’d not catalogued what color her eyes were. (In my defense, it was dark in the bar.) I’d checked out her, um, upper midsection a few times, but hadn’t registered the fabric her shirt was made out of. I don’t recall having looked at her shoes once, and I’ve never guessed a height correctly in my life (at least not to my knowledge).

But I do remember everything we talked about and the kind of person she seemed to be. See, the date went really well: Liz is very funny and engaging and intelligent, and we have a similar sense of humor. The craziest part of the whole date happened when, about halfway through, we discussed where we lived during school and found out that we had been next-door neighbors our entire junior year of college. I’m sure we crossed paths at least every now and then, but we never met.

To me, those kinds of details are way more important than that outward stuff. I knew at first glance that Liz was pretty, and that was that. The conversation was good enough that I didn’t have to keep scoping her out physically to convince myself that I wanted to see her again. If she was lame or not friendly or whatever, I probably would have spent more time digesting physical attributes, weighing whether it was worth it to go out again with someone who didn’t seem all that interesting.

So I’m looking forward to the second date. Might go in for a real kiss this time, too.

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Scott Muska is a writer in New York City. You can follow him on Twitter @scottmuska or e-mail him at [email protected].