there is a very specific kind of text that makes me immediately less excited to see a man.
“when are you free?”
nothing technically wrong with it.
which is almost worse.
field note no. 003:
women are constantly being handed administrative work disguised as romance.
when are you free?
okay. let me check my calendar.
what do you want to do?
i don’t know, what do you want to do?
where should we go?
what time works?
suddenly i am not being asked on a date. i am producing one.
and listen, i can produce. beautifully.
that is not the point.
the point is that when you want to see someone, there is something incredibly attractive about sounding like you have actually considered what seeing them would look like.
not in a dominant-alpha-provider-podcast way. please relax.
i mean literally:
“hey, i’m free thursday. i was thinking that little italian place on newbury around 7. does that work? i want to spend time with you.”
look at that.
a grown man has appeared.
he has a date.
a time.
an idea.
and, somehow, despite the internet’s insistence that initiative requires becoming a dictator, she is still completely free to say no.
making a plan is not the same thing as making a decision for her.
that distinction seems to be giving some of you a lot of trouble.
there is a difference between:
“be ready at 7. i’m picking you up.”
and:
“i’d love to take you here thursday at 7. does that work?”
one removes her choice.
the other removes unnecessary labor.
very sexy difference.
because “when are you free?” sounds casual, but it quietly asks her to do the first piece of work.
figure out the day.
then probably the activity.
then negotiate the details.
then somehow maintain the illusion that you were the one pursuing her.
sir.
desire sounds different when it arrives with a plan.
and no, the restaurant itself is not the important part.
you could tell me you want to take me for tacos, to a bookstore, to an exhibit, for martinis, to sit near the water and gossip about strangers.
i do not require a reservation at nobu to understand that a man has put a thought together.
i require evidence of the thought.
a plan communicates more than logistics.
it says: i was thinking about seeing you before i texted you.
i imagined something we might enjoy.
i made space for you in my actual life.
initiative is attractive because attention is attractive.
this also makes rejection much easier, by the way.
if i don’t want italian food but i want to see you, i can say, “thursday works. can we do sushi instead?”
beautiful.
civilization survives.
if thursday doesn’t work, i can suggest friday.
if i don’t want to see you at all, i can decline.
everybody has retained their constitutional rights.
but now i know what you wanted.
there is something exhausting about constantly having to interpret vague interest.
“we should hang.”
“let me know when you’re around.”
“what are you doing later?”
“when are you free?”
free for what?
court?
a kidnapping?
an oil change?
use nouns.
i am begging.
the sexiest thing about directness is not control.
it is relief.
i know what you mean.
you know what you mean.
nobody has to perform a small forensic investigation into your intentions.
if you want to see her, give the desire a shape.
a day.
a place.
an idea.
room for her to change any of the above.
and the extremely complicated sentence:
“i want to spend time with you.”
there.
apparently men needed an essay.
p.s. if you’re going to make plans with me, it helps to know what kind of trouble you’re planning around.
More field notes every Wednesday, 9 a.m. New York.
And the part she doesn’t write down: After Dark 18+ →