I stood outside a local pizza place, anxiously waiting for my date to arrive. It was my first time meeting up with a guy I met online, and I was so nervous I was shaking. I kept telling myself that I had talked to this guy on the phone twice, and he didn’t sound like a serial killer. He did talk incessantly about how much he loved to play pool, but didn’t mention anything about a fondness for knives or driving around in big white (read: child molester) van, so it should be fine, I thought.
He got there ten minutes late, but he was friendly and seemed pretty normal. We sat down and ordered some pizza.
The date was going OK. I couldn’t tell if it felt really awkward because we had never met before or if we didn’t have much in common. But things got interesting when we were about halfway finished with our slices and he asked me if I wanted to take a quiz.
“You want to go play Quizzo?” I asked, clearly not understanding what he meant.
“No, take a quiz. Well, it’s more like a personality test.”
Confused and somewhat intrigued, I told him I would do it. Then he took out a little yellow-lined notepad from his pocket (like a reporter prepared for the next story, bound to unfold at your neighborhood pizza joint!) and started telling me to picture a desert. Then I had to imagine a cube, and he asked me multiple questions about it. How big was it? Is it 2D or 3D? Then I slowly had to start adding items to my desert, such as a ladder, flowers, a horse and a storm. He asked specific questions about each item, all the while jotting notes down in his little notebook. (When I got home that night, I Googled this and found out that this personality test is called the Cube. [Editor’s note: It’s also a technique that pick-up artist Neil Strauss endorses in his book The Game. Guys, don’t do this. Consider yourselves outed.]
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He then proceeded to psychoanalyze me. I’m surprised he didn’t ask me to lie down on my side of the booth and that he didn’t start talking in an Austrian accent a la Freud. This warehouse worker (with no background in psychology at all) started telling me things about myself that he learned from doing this test. Certain things he said were correct, but many points were off. I had said my cube was large, so he told me that meant I had a large ego. Ouch.
I tried to speed up the rest of the date, so we didn’t get to go over the rest of my “results.” When we were leaving, he patted me on the back and said we should get together soon to play pool. “And we have to finish talking about your test results,” he said, grinning.
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I smiled and mumbled, “Yeahsuresoundsgood” and hauled ass outta there. I didn’t return his call when he left me a message asking for a second date.