\n<\/p>\n
Like pretty much everyone else, I\u2019ve been entranced by FX\u2019s Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. and Carolyn Bessette<\/em><\/a>. That\u2019s not because I believe all that much in the dream of Camelot, or have any real memory of the \u201990s in New York City (Jenna Maroney from 30 Rock<\/em> voice: I don\u2019t remember it because I was too young!), but because I can\u2019t look away from the gorgeously elusive, cig-smoking, cool-girl<\/a> vision of femininity presented by Sarah Pidgeon\u2019s Carolyn (that is, until the press started sapping her life force, but I digress).<\/p>\n In the fourth episode of Love Story<\/em><\/a>, as she\u2019s dodging calls from John F. Kennedy Jr. (played by the appallingly hot Paul Anthony Kelly<\/a>), her friend Narciso Rodriguez<\/a> asks her, coyly: \u201cScreening his calls. What, did you read that in The Rules<\/em> or something?\u201d This\u2014the idea that there was some organizing principle undergirding Carolyn\u2019s mantra of \u201cExploit his insecurities\u201d\u2014intrigued me, and before I knew it, I was deep in the lore behind 1995\u2019s The Rules: Time-tested Secrets for Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right<\/a>,<\/em> Ellen Fein and Sherrie Schneider\u2019s step-by-step manual for finding the warm glow of heterosexual love. Now that I\u2019m single and somewhat reluctantly putting my theoretical bisexuality into practice, it felt like the perfect time to find out whether the book still had actionable advice in the age of app dating. (Without even a trace of CBK relevance, Fein and Schneider\u2019s early aughts follow-up The Rules for Online Dating: Capturing the Heart of Mr. Right in Cyberspace<\/em> held somewhat less appeal.)<\/p>\n To be fair, I\u2019m not sure The Rules<\/em> made sense even in the mid-\u201990s, and they sure as hell weren\u2019t feminist. (Among other things, Fein and Schneider encourage readers not to talk to a man first, not to stare at men, not to talk to men too much, not to call them or frequently return their calls, and, of course, not to rush into intimacy.) But after a decade of queerness and a four-year-long relationship, I was ready to embrace being \u201ca creature unlike any other,\u201d so this past week I endeavored to put The Rules<\/em> to the test.<\/p>\n Committed journalist that I am, I dutifully dragged myself out to a Hinge date on Sunday night (after<\/em> covering the 2026 Oscars<\/a>, mind you: where\u2019s my Pulitzer?). And it was not just any date, either, but my very first with a cisgender, heterosexual man in roughly a decade.<\/p>\n There is nothing in The Rules<\/em> about pounding two glasses of orange wine at the bar before your date arrives, so I obviously did that to calm my racing nerves. Then, when he did show up, I proceeded to break pretty much every guideline set forth by Fein and Schneider, including not talking to him first (I hate awkward silences!), not going Dutch (I reflexively asked if he wanted a beer when I went to get my third wine and he took me up on it!), not opening up too fast (I don\u2019t totally remember, but I think I talked a lot about my childhood?), and, of course, the cardinal sin: \u201cDon\u2019t do more than casual kissing on the first date.\u201d<\/p>\n I\u2019m too much of a lady to reveal much more, but suffice it to say that I did<\/em> end this date (and not first; another Rules<\/em> no-no) by inviting this man over to my apartment, where my tiny, mean dog<\/a>\u2014who is clearly far more of a Rules<\/em>-follower than I am\u2014barked at him for a good 20 minutes and I served him water out of a wine glass like the domestic goddess that I am. Then, immediately upon his departure, I felt myself turn into a Cathy<\/em> cartoon<\/a>. Did he like me? Would I see him again? Had I ruined any possibility of being properly pursued by throwing The Rules<\/em> aside despite my best intentions?<\/p>\n<\/div>\n