Dating Knows No Mercy

The cost of connection, pleasure rituals, and the gamification of sexual assault.

I think it’s silly that most first dates happen over drinks.

Bars are probably the worst place to get to know someone new. They’re loud, dark, and honestly really fucking expensive. It’s bad enough that I’m yelling, “Can you say that again?” every three minutes and gawking at the $18 price tag on my cocktail, but what’s worse?

The “bar date” is painfully unoriginal.

Last fall, I tried something different—I planned a bookstore date. We met at Molasses in Bushwick on election night (which was a crazy idea in retrospect). And while Harris was loosing in states my mom was utterly convinced she’d win, I was talking about music with an Irish Puerto Rican DJ on Hart St at dusk.

After we finished our awkward introductions, shepherding a dating app match into a real world connection, I gave us instructions:

Based on what we know about each other (which was quite a lot, given our accidental three hour long FaceTime the night before) pick out a book that the other would love to read—and explain why.

I was locked in for that date: totally present and weirdly excited.

Picking a book for him forced me to get out of my own head. I had to consider how he viewed the world and step away from my self-motivated interpretations of his desire. It was empathetic—something I think we’re all severely lacking these days.

And most of all, it reminded me why dating apps are designed to fail: they prioritize ego driven matches based on physical attraction rather than critical considerations of prosocial based compatibility.

Content Warning for this issue: Sexual Assault.

Are you swiping for validation?

Sometimes I feel like the only person using dating apps TO DATE.

Unsurprisingly, a lot of people are just here for the ego boost. Basic swiping is free, the attention is fast, and the follow-through is practically nonexistent.

That said, if you actually want to “date intentionally” (ugh, I’m practically puking bc what does that even mean anymore): only swipe right if you’re excited to make the first move.

Trust me, I’m taking my own advice but the pickings are SLIM.

We all need a cheap fucking date.

So we’re basically in a recession, and all I can think about is how much money I could have saved on “dinner and drinks” this year.

I always go dutch on the first date. Mainly because I can’t feel like I owe a guy anything—more of my time or especially sex.

But really I split the bill because I date for connection, not a free meal. Getting a drink or grabbing a bite is just a means to and end: I want to get to know you.

Which is why tighter budgets are a great excuse for some actual creativity. But how do you plan a cost effective date when there’s so much pressure to flex your financial security?

And let’s not get it twisted: men are expected to pay, but that’s because they’re still taught to expect something in return.

I’m over that transaction.

Yeah, I joke about needing a Sugar Daddy (and I have searched, found, and quickly left those arrangements). But the reality is your date is probably facing just as much financial fluctuation as you are, especially in this economy.

So let’s start asking ourselves: where and how can I actually get to know the person I’m going on a date with?

And more importantly: do I actually want to know them at all, or am I just seeking the value they could potentially provide?

You can hate the player and the game.

In the horrifying case of “No Mercy”—the sexual assault simulator Zerat Games distributed on Steam earlier this month—we can hate the game developers too.

There was no content warning, no age restriction, or remorse. Just unfettered violence against women courted by the fantasy that law, consequence, or feeling don’t exist—but that’s the reality, isn’t it?

I clutch my keys between my fingers like makeshift bear knuckles every night because my safety isn’t guaranteed. To some men, my body is a goddamn playground.

But the only thing “not all men” rhetoric has gotten us is game developers who felt emboldened enough to glorify violence against women and immortalize the most dehumanizing act I can think of.

Several countries banned it, but you know who didn’t?

The United States—because of course fucking not.

Until all men feel ashamed, disgusted, and inhuman for even thinking of assaulting a woman, a person—this won’t stop.

And yes. It is that serious.

That made me want to crawl out of my skin, so let’s talk about three ways to cultivate a solo-pleasure practice that clarifies your desires and what you want out of partnered play.