May 242014
 

My second Tinder date was with a beautiful woman. Her face pictures were gorgeous – high cheekbones, luscious lips. We clicked well enough in Tinder-chat, and we quickly progressed to a plan. In person, she lived up to her photos.

She was a bit inscrutable in person. A bit defended, distant. Very confident, very smart, with wide-ranging interests. And I wasn’t sure where we were headed, until the last fifteen minutes or so of the date.

A couple of times throughout our chat – both on Tinder and in person – she had mentioned astrology, something like, “That’s so Virgo,” or whatever. I made nothing of it.

But the last stretch of the date was a full-on apologia for astrology. Even after I was clear that, for me, astrology is sort of like religion: a set of beliefs that I’m prepared to respect in others, but that holds little or no sway over me. She kept going – making all sorts of assertions about both western and Chinese astrology, in that way that true believers often do: not with the perspective of someone describing what they believe to someone who doesn’t believe, but rather, from the vantage point of someone revealing truth to an uneducated person.

This isn’t so winning to me. I don’t want to have to defend my genuine, heartfelt belief that my personality has little to do with the 31-day period in which I was born; that it has little in common, except coincidentally, with others born in the same window; that I don’t find astrology interesting.

What I find interesting is why people find astrology interesting or compelling. I’m happy – very happy – to talk about that. But I’m not so interested in being schooled on the “science” of astrology.

Oh well.

Say something! (I just did....)