Quantify the effects of the experiment.

Well, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, so I set up a blind date for the next day. I agreed to meet Katie at a bar. I got there a little early and stood around practicing the wind-up. The good doctor said the only part of a date you should fake, if necessary, is the initial greeting. Even if my date had a mug like a slapped ass, I was going to give her a big toothy smile (the only kind I know, as my teeth look like those miniature bars of hotel soap), use her name right off the bat and generally act like I was having my mind blown by her insights on growing up in White Plains.

Katie was punctual and had a pretty face. I stood up, sporting a shit-eating grin, and greeted her. "Katie?" I beamed. I thrust out my hand, but she went in for the peck on the cheek. Trying to make amends for my stuffiness, I pulled her in and kissed her. The awkwardness was palpable. I offered to get her a drink, but she'd already been to the bar. Continuing to grin like a simpleton, I tried to cover all the conversational bases: the topical (her weekend, the continuing cold snap, the impending transit strike), the demographical (the town she grew up in, her siblings, her schooling) and the anecdotal (recent dates, "this one time at band camp," etc.)

No one was taking the lion's share on the mic, and everything seemed to be going swimmingly. Although the old Grant may have drifted off (I have an ADD problem that I haven't quite gotten around to seeing my doctor about), new Grant laughed at all the cute things that she said, made sympathetic noises in all the right places, and nodded convincingly whenever she mentioned that something that Mayor Bloomberg was doing was "in actuality, total bullshit."

She asked me about my band, a now defunct power-pop trio. I rattled off a long list of esoteric groups that in some way shaped our sound, look or raison d'etre. "Cool," she said after each one, including two that I totally made up. Forgoing all of my dating sensei's teachings, I then launched into a ten-minute monologue about an ill-fated, Spinal Tap-esque gig at a Bennigan's in Virginia. A prolonged silence ensued. Katie raised her eyebrows and gave me an embarrassed smile. "You know, I was in a choir that toured North America and Western Europe. I also play the flute." I didn't even think to ask. Dr. Anne was right. I was no good at the hand-off.

I also began to notice something else: I was not attracted to Katie.

As Katie continuted to tell me about musical accomplishments that far surpassed my own, my mind furiously scanned through every lackluster liaison with every girl that I've ever met, trying to pinpoint the precise moment when she realized I couldn't care less. I felt wretched and took a swig of my Coke, hoping it would sweeten the self-loathing that was coursing through my body. "Are you feeling okay?" Katie asked. "Sure," I lied.

She then proceeded to make everything worse by saying that I was cute and funny and that she loved my accent. I squirmed a little but returned the compliment. Out of the blue, she decided to up the ante: "What's the best blowjob you ever got?" My jaw dropped. Dr. Anne hadn't prepped me for this. "Really . . . " Katie said, leaning in like a slurring Cujo. "What's the best you've ever had? Tell me." Apparently, Katie was a tad drunk. Atypically, I was not in the mood. Blushing, I told her the sketchy details. "I bet I could do better," she smirked. "Ha ha!" I replied, utterly discombobulated. "You're silly!" This had never happened before. We drank up, I walked her to the subway and kissed her goodbye, not exactly sure if the offer of oral sex was a direct result of my consultation.



Summarize your findings. Don't forget to attempt to identify possible variables that could result in different findings for others trying to recreate your test results.

Are guys who give a great first impression liars, or are they just intrigued by anyone and everyone? Although Dr. Demarais gave me props for showing honesty and integrity, possessing such "skills" could well be my Achilles heel in the dating world. I thought my lack of interest in "Susan" was due to the fact that she seemed more like some dotty aunt than the snotty young girls I typically go for. But I had the same problem with Katie. She was young and snotty enough and certainly willing enough but I just wasn't feeling it. As trite as it sounds, there's something to be said for chemistry. If someone could teach me how to create that, I'd sign up in a heartbeat.  n°

First Impressions: What You Don't Know About How Others See You will be published by Bantam Books in 2003.

Do you have an idea for Grant's next I Did It for Science? Let him know