You’re going to have to hang tight with me on this one for a while.
What I want to know is, how did anyone discover that invisible toxic gases kill a canary in a coal mine? I mean think about it. Did a big burly coal guy say, I want to bring my pet canary to work with me today, he’s lonely at home. And then after a few hours in the coal mine….oh shit!
Or did a canary think, where are all these people with lights between their eyes going? I should go check it out because maybe it’s somewhere cool…..oh shit!
Or did someone’s canary die too close to the family latrine and someone said, that’s interesting, I wonder what would happen if we put him in a coal mine….oh shit!
And even then. Did one guy say, oh, the canary must have died from some invisible gas? No. First the canary went and then the guy next to him keeled over. Was this a coincidence? I mean, I wouldn’t assume because there’s a dead bird that it’s related to the dead guy next to me. There are dead pigeons all over the city it doesn’t mean I expect I’m next. Don’t you need some scientific testing, more than one example? So Joe brings his bird to work — dead — Tom thinks, I have a canary, I’ll bring HIM to work to cheer up Joe. Oh shit.
I’m getting at this because I would like a canary. I would like some sort of screaming life-or-death red flag that says…don’t go in this coal mine. Instead, in the ever so unscientific world of dating, you have to really go into the coal mine to see what gasses there are, and sometimes I mean that literally. About the gasses that is. I mean there are certain indications I’ve learned or at least rules I’ve made up. a) If a man is a bad kisser, or lets say, more nicely, you’re incompatible kissing, then there’s no way he’s going to be good in bed, or more nicely, that you’re going to compatible in bed. b) If a man is a good kisser there’s still a likelihood he’s going to be bad in bed, I’m going to skip the whole compatibility thing, but that’s no guarantee. Still, the canary has a better chance of going home and having dinner that night, if we want to beat the analogy to death. c) A man is a great kisser, and that’s a 2 way street for sure, then chances are no one will be chewing ice come the morning, at least not in an egregious fashion.
For those of you who ever saw Sex in the City, there was an episode where Charlotte’s date is literally licking her face. She says, you’re a bad kisser. He’s shocked. That was a one way street. It’s also a dead end street. And I’ve been on that street. What do you do with that? You leave that canary at home because the only way off that road is, Oh shit.
I’ll recount a little story:
It was the eve of a holiday and we had been out before. A guy a little younger than me but nice and we hadn’t really did the whole making out thing on either date one or date 2 two but a little bit. But this was an eve holiday and the expectations were running high. Despite the choice of a bad movie and being late and then suggesting Shake Shack for dinner (that’s my equivalent of MacDonalds and I don’t care what anyone says) I still held out hope that the evening could be rescued because after all something about holidays makes normal people delusional. So after a digestif of tea…sigh…it was sort of now or never as to where the rest of the evening would go. That’s when I entered that cul-de-sac of kissing and the night came to an abrupt end. Festivities or not. It was too extreme. On the other side, I once kissed a guy, who leaned into me and then was closed-lip like an interrogated spy – before being “enhanced” – it was like making out with a wall. A wall with a nose. That was the other extreme. That came to an abrupt end too. Does this sound judgmental and ass-holian? Perhaps. I don’t go out with people who only speak Slavic either. It’s a communication problem. Same thing.
So that’s the only canary one has and it is, at best, unscientific. I didn’t used to listen to its song but over time it’s saved what I can only imagine are a whole lot of moments which end with “Oh shit.”