You can't go on a date anymore because you can't do something that doesn't exist. The Internet, Generation Y, text messaging, Justin Bieber - we can play the blame game all night long (god knows I have, often under duress of Ambien and whiskey), but the truth is, "dating" is a muddled mess that often lurches uncomfortably between coffee - which isn't a date - to drunk fondling - also not a date - to anything and everything in between (which may be a date but also may not.) It's enough to make you give the whole thing up, which apparently I did last summer and am still doing.
Take an informal poll of your young-ish single friends, and they might tell you they don't WANT to call it a date. The word today seems to carry the dusty green patina of your grandpa's shaving bowl, only grandpa is still going on dates, lots of them, with all the assisted living ass he can find. The Twitterati (yeah I wish I didn't have to use that word too) don't say "date", because it implies undue pressure or expectation, and god forbid we expect anything of our gentle digital babies. Today's "hook-up" culture has been well documented, where the hot horny kids do things to/inside each other without the confines of a suffocating "relationship hierarchy."
Frankly, it's all a bit confusing for JK, not so young anymore, his soft brain beholden to comforting social strictures. Admittedly, I'd feel foolish asking a girl out on a date - and I have enough rejections under my belt by now to know all too well that sweet breeze that is foolishness - not because a date wouldn't be fun, but because I've no desire to look or sound like a grandpa. The Cheddar Bay biscuits I wrap in a napkin to take home do that work for me.
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