People, like most produce and some dairy products, have a “best by” date. Not like, after a certain amount of time they go bad and should be discarded. Like, there’s a range of time within which they are each their best. But not “their best” like they become appropriately ripe and then that’s it. More like they each take a different amount of time to arrive at their most delicious selves – the point where they can be enjoyed as they should be and thus appropriately evaluated.

Hhmm. So.

People, like cheese, each become their best after a unique amount of time. A washed rind sheep’s milk is ready the minute you take it home from the store. Serve it up with crackers, it doesn’t need time to settle or cool or age a little more. A pecorino, on the other hand, could use some time outside the fridge to sit and soften. You could push it right away, but you’ll need a sharper knife and stronger cracker – and even then it won’t taste quite right. You might find yourself saying, “I don’t like this pecorino” or, “I never like a pecorino” or the more telling, “why don’t I ever learn my lesson about those fucking pecorinos” but maybe you’re just not understanding the unique nature of the entire pecorino family.

People can be much like that pecorino – especially when entering into a prospective relationship (you knew it was coming).

Some people perform incredibly well on a first date. They have excellent small talk skills, have crafted life details into short, episodic stories, and know what remains TMI 30 minutes into knowing someone (underarm hair preference being at the top of that list). They are goat cheese. Excellent right out of the package. Where they suffer tends to be around date 4 or 5 when most life details have been exchanged, and it’s time for real substance. Sometimes their dog and pony show doesn’t have a second act. It’s not that people who perform well on a first date won’t still be great round 5, but it’s trouble if the awkward silences start to pop up after you know a lot about each other. It means they’re boring or selfish. Both are bad.

Then there are the people who take those 4 to 5 dates to warm up at all (pecorino, some swisses). Getting to know a perfect stranger is nerve-wracking. We of Facebook culture forget that sometimes the first conversation actually starts with, “so, where are you from”. They say first dates feel like an interview for a reason. They’re like an interview. And not everyone can go zero to sixty in two sessions. A warning statement (“Yeah, good to finally meet you too. Just so you know I’m really best on date three, so just take that into consideration tonight”) would be weird, but the shyer among us should be cut some slack. It really is intimidating.

Me – I’m brie. Confusing and often too soft. I do small talk well enough, but it’s not my strong suit. I can ask questions and seem interested, but if I’m not interested I ask dumb questions (“don’t you feel like you could probably be doing the whole stock market thing online now?”). And when I’m nervous my left eye squints a little (Not a wink, but a squint so it appears like I might wink at you but I haven’t quite decided). My main problem is that I apply 4th date conversation to 1st date scenarios. I feel like I’m best understood with a lot of background detail and all my stories are connected to other stories, so I start weaving these confusing webs of people and places and jobs that makes me seem really involved. And while part of it is that I am really involved (sort of) – it’s more that I feel comfortable quickly and so I come off acting like we’ve been friends for months even though we met five minutes ago. To some people it’s endearing and comforting. To most, it’s weird.

What’s tough about these cheeses situation is that you only get one chance at a first impression. And in this age of gourmet fast food we’re not inclined to wait around until the person settles into their perfect room temperature. He acts shy, you think he’s disinterested, it ends at date one. Or she seems like she talks to much, you assuming she’s way too much to handle, end scene. If only you knew going in that the first-date behavior is on account of x,y, or z factors – you’d consider the person more carefully.

Extended long metaphor short, it’s best to be set up. You get a pre-first impression and, in my case, a little talking to about not using so many food metaphors. You also get a date without having to do any work at all. Win win. Work on making that happen.

And no, it’s not like a stink-eye. It’s just a very minor wink-ish squint that happens because I do this nervous smile thing only when I, conveniently, really like the person.