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An Open Letter to Daters

Dear young people sitting at the table next to me who are obviously on a date,

Put those stupid iPhones away and pay attention to each other.

We've all done it. Admit it. We've all been smartphone douche bags. It's a cultural change that might not have been welcome or anticipated. But it is here. Smartphone douchery is as commonplace as highs of 67 in June in Chicago. Wait...what? Nevermind.

Anywho, I was out for a casual dinner at a pub with the hubby the other night and next to us--as in, not quite a foot away due to European style table crampery--was a young couple who appeared to be on a date. I don't know, maybe they were bro-and-sis and were playing a blinking game. But the short-lived longing stares said one thing--either fireworks were about to hit or there's going to be a heartache tonight.



I like seeing young love. It makes me grab my husband's hand a little tighter as I remember those early days. The nervous excitement. The looks of jealousy from other girls when we walked into a room. The urge to point at them and say, "That's right, he's with ME, bitches!" Those fond memories are so much fun.

What I don't remember, though, is the constant ping of distractions that we see today. We didn't even have cell phones back then, let alone "smart phones." If we were distracted while out on a date it was usually by an acquaintance who'd stop by to give us a good ribbing. All it took was the, "Dude, get lost, I'm on a date" look of death to shoo the pesky datus interruptus away. We were focused on getting to know each other, taking note of what makes the other laugh, every forehead crinkle, every nervous habit, every shy glance and quick look down. All the good stuff that when recalled, remind your mate that you are the one person that knows him/her best.

Not today, though.

Let me lay it all out with exhibits XY and XX from the other night. XX had a stylish, pink-encased iPhone sitting right there next to the salad fork or dinner fork, whichever goes on the outside. Exhibit XY kept looking at XX with that hopeful look a puppy gives its owner when he hears the "W" word. If XY had a tail, I'm sure it was wagging incessantly behind him. XX, on the other hand, was in a deep, thrilling convo with some faceless, nameless being at an undisclosed location through text messaging. All this while eating and throwing XY the occasional bone in the form of girlie laugh and hair twirl. It wasn't long before XY took out his phone and set it next to his salad or dinner fork. I think this was just for show considering that he wasn't actively engaged with it.

What is the matter with you two? Are you each so uninteresting that you cannot find one single topic to discuss? Do you have that little in common? Are you both hard of hearing, do not know sign language and are texting each other across the table? Un-freaking-believable.

At the very least, kids, try to camouflage your iPhones. Going somewhere fancy-schmancy? Use a white cover to blend in with the white table cloth. In the mood for pub-grub? Use a dark cover to blend in with the overly shellacked walnut table. But, please, for the love of jelly donuts, do not adorn your umbilical cord to the outside world with a hot pink cover. That'll even stand out in Victoria's Secret.

Really, though, daters, just put the phones away and pay attention to each other. You might just be looking at that one true love. Don't wait until after that text to figure it out.

Respectfully submitted,
This Girl

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