I once sat opposite a man who ordered his steak well done. That was probably the first red flag, though I’ve been told to be less of a snob. If you like chewy, tasteless beef, you do you, babe. He then looked down at his plate for a beat too long, leaned forward and dribbled on the steak before cutting into it. A long, stringy glob of drool – the kind infants do accidentally. Except this was not an accident.
I was so horrified I didn’t say anything. Nor did he, which made it worse. We sat there in silence, him eating, me trying not to gag. I didn’t touch much of my own food, partly out of shock and partly because I couldn’t unsee it. Years later, he’s now coming to my wedding – to a man who understands that saliva is not a condiment, I might add. Growth is possible.
Everyone’s got a dating horror story. Everyone’s got an ick. You dump them, you marry someone else and you tell the story at dinner parties. But with nearly half of Brits planning to dine out this Valentine’s Day, I feel it’s my civic duty to warn you that dinner has become the most unforgiving of personality tests. Which raises the question: what are the fastest ways to fail it, and what, exactly, should you avoid if you’d like to be asked out again?
Your order
Spaghetti remains the great first-date folly: too slippery, too Lady and the Tramp, too liable to end up redecorating your chin or your shirt (which I hope you’ve ironed). Anything that requires wrestling is risky early on – ribs, unwieldy burgers, seafood platters that demand tools, confidence and facial expressions you’d probably rather not debut on a first date.
It can be fun, if that’s your thing. But asking about exes or hobbies while cracking crab legs or gnawing meat off the bone with your teeth is not intimacy: it’s a test of dexterity and multitasking. Which, on second thought, could be useful later on.
Steak, meanwhile, is the great equaliser. He gets the T-bone, she gets the fillet, you share the fries, candles flicker, red wine pours. It looks romantic and uncomplicated, which is exactly why it isn’t. Ordering it rare suggests bravery, medium rare diplomacy, well done… a deeply suspicious person. Perhaps a psychopath. Order what you like, of course, but don’t be surprised when your date quietly makes a diagnosis. Liking it black or blue is not a dealbreaker on its own, but it does start to read like a personality trait.
If you’re going to do fish, make it right
Fish is equally dangerous territory. Attempting to fillet a fish without knowing how is bad enough. Doing it confidently, publicly and incorrectly? Worse. “The waiter asked if we wanted him to fillet it,” one friend said. “I was about to say, ‘no, thank you, I can do it’, because I can, when my date interrupted [strike one] and said he’d do it. He said it was the gentlemanly thing to do! He absolutely butchered it. There were bones everywhere. When I started carefully picking through it, he insisted he’d done it correctly and that I was being dramatic.”
Nobody fancies a fuss pot
Picky eating came up often when I asked friends about their worst dining dates. Not an outright swipe left on allergies or preferences, but the kind of anxious ordering that quietly rules out surprise birthday parties, impromptu holidays and suspicious-looking sauces. “I suggested sushi, but he said he didn’t like anything ‘uncooked’, so we ended up at a normal British restaurant,” says Sophie, 31, engaged (to someone else). “He interrogated the waiter about everything on the menu before finally ordering a plain cheeseburger without any of the toppings. Just meat, cheese and bread. When I asked, he said he didn’t like eating anything unfamiliar. He also said he has Dolmio bolognese for lunch every day. I dumped him by text on the way home.”
Manners matter
If you’ve survived thus far, you’re not in the clear yet. Once the food arrives, so does the peril. Starting to eat before everyone is served is a classic faux pas, not limited to dates, but one that raises questions about your upbringing. Eating too fast is just as unsettling. One friend told me about a date who finished his meal before hers even arrived, then sat back and watched her eat. “I was so aware of him watching me chewing or talking with my mouth full that I rushed through it. I just wanted it over.” Pacing is everything. Do you really want to signal that finishing first is your defining move?
Cutlery, it turns out, is where dates quietly die. This surprised me, not least because I eat “the wrong way round” myself. Which suggests this isn’t really about etiquette at all. It’s about something more basic: whether you appear to be a functioning adult who has, at the very least, eaten a meal before without supervision.
The list of offences is long and alarmingly specific. Holding cutlery too far up, or too far down. Gripping it like a pencil, which several people swear is real. Using a fork to scoop and a spoon to slice. Licking it. Biting it. Abandoning it on the table. Pointing it at your date like a finance bro delivering a “deck”. At this point, I’d almost suggest not using it at all were it not for the number of complaints about people eating with their hands, too.
He interrogated the waiter about everything on the menu before finally ordering a plain cheeseburger without any of the toppings. Just meat, cheese and bread. When I asked, he said he didn’t like eating anything unfamiliar. He also said he has Dolmio bolognese for lunch every day. I dumped him by text on the way home
And then there are chopsticks. Asking to swap them for a fork at a sushi restaurant is widely considered grounds for dismissal. Bringing your own telescopic set with you? To a pub? Well. “I thought I’d misread the menu,” Clare, now married (not to the chopstick criminal), “but no, sausage and mash. Pub food. Then he went to the bathroom to rinse them under the tap. I didn’t know if I should be impressed or make a run for it while he was gone.”
Napkins are another quiet separator of adults from menaces. Not using one at all. Tucking it into your collar like you’re in TGI Fridays (which, I beg you, do not take your date to). Wiping fingers on jeans. Licking fingers mid-conversation. These are the moments when attraction doesn’t fade so much as run screaming in the other direction. “I could literally feel myself shrivel up,” says Andrew, 38, single.
The biggest deal-breaker of all
If there is one behaviour that unites everyone in horror, it’s rudeness to staff. Clicking fingers. Waving. Shouting. Speaking down rather than politely. Not saying thank you on the way out. This consistently tops every list of dating red flags, and for good reason. “I can see past just about anything if they’re cute and funny, except being even remotely rude to staff,” says Hugh, happily married to a very polite man.
It’s not really about manners. It’s about who someone thinks they need to impress, and who they don’t. There’s a difference between confidence and entitlement, between knowledge and performance. The former is attractive. The latter is just someone flexing in the wrong direction. Watching a date punch down in public is less a turn-off than a warning: if this is how they treat people they don’t need, it’s only a matter of time before you’re included in that category.
Martyrdom is not hot
By the time the bill arrives, most of the damage has already been done. Interestingly, almost no one mentioned who pays as a dealbreaker. The rules have relaxed. What matters now isn’t who reaches for the card, but whether it’s handled without performance or resentment. Generosity is attractive. Martyrdom is not. Insisting on paying and then resenting it is worse than splitting without fuss.
First dates are often framed as exercises in compatibility, but dinner suggests something more Darwinian. You are not assessing shared interests or long-term potential. You are watching for disqualifying behaviour. Small signals, minor breaches, faint but unmistakable warnings that this person, given enough time, will become intolerable. Romance is optimistic. Dining is forensic. By dessert, most people aren’t wondering, “Do I like them?”, but rather “Can I live with this?”
If you want another date, the advice is simple, if not easy: order sensibly, eat like a human, treat staff kindly and remember there’s someone opposite you. Failing that, at least don’t dribble on your steak.
