In this day and age, pointing out gender-differentiated behavior is a rather dangerous thing to do – it smacks of a misogynistic, patriarchal, pro-glass ceiling perspective that any guy hoping to ever have sex again would be better off simply avoiding altogether. That being said, I simply cannot refrain from sharing at least one small guy vs. girl observation I’ve recently noted. Namely, that girls tend to believe all of their friends are more attractive and all of their enemies less attractive than is actually the case, something guys simply don’t do.

Illustratively: a hunch-backed, toothless wildebeest of a girl would inevitably be described by every one of her friends as “absolutely beautiful,” or, at very least, “really, very cute.” Conversely, a Victoria’s Secret model who had once given that group of friends a dirty look would be dismissed as “honestly, not that attractive; I mean, seriously, what do guys even see in her?” It is my sense that women aren’t actively trying to bend the truth with these statements, but rather that their attractiveness appraisals are simply more highly influenced by personality. Guys, by way of comparison, have no trouble separating personality and looks, hence the frequency of friend descriptions like “who, Joe? Yeah, he’s a good guy, but he’s pretty fuckin’ ugly.”

All of which tends to get us guys in trouble, as women are nearly always in the process of setting single guys up with their single girl friends. Extrapolating cross-gender from our “call a spade a spade” approach, we guys tend to assume that the description of the girls we’re being set up with are largely objective. And, sometimes, they are. But more frequently, we hit the bar, meet the date, and realize that the liquid fortification required to actually kiss the girl goodnight would require a rather significant proportion of the week’s salary.

All of which, I suppose, leads me to this dating advice for fellow men: if the set-up is a close friend of the matchmaker, be wary. Ask for a picture. Or, at very least, buy a flask, and reduce the cost of your necessarily excessive drinking.

Apparently, there’s something about me that says “please set me up with your attractive (but crazy) female friends.” Whatever the reason, going on blind dates has become one of my biggest hobbies, and by now, I’m about ready to go pro.

Over time, I’ve evolved to favoring the early evening drinks date. It’s intimate, sophisticated, and easy to cut short if things turn sour. More importantly, it encourages cutting the date short even if it’s going well. (Keeping up the thrill of the chase is the surest path to a second date.)

The world’s best location for an early evening drinks date is the Campbell Apartment, a bar located in New York’s Grand Central Station, accessible only via an untrafficked side door. Originally built in the 1920s (during prohibition) by a rich businessman as his private, upscale speakeasy, the bar was covered over in the 1935 renovation of Grand Central, and only rediscovered a few years back when Grand Central was again renovated. The decor is the same as it was in the ’20s, making the place about as Gatsby as possible. They mix perfect martinis (Grey Goose, dirty, straight up) and the bar exudes a sophisticated secrecy, as if it’s the last bastion of an otherwise forgotten New York high-life.

While quite effective, however, the short early evening drinks date has one serious flaw: it compresses the first date quite a bit and thereby increases the pressure. With only an hour to get the job done, the intrepid dater must move through being charming, witty, interested, sensitive and seductive fairly quickly. Slipping up on any given step sets back the schedule and probably botches the entire relationship.