Enter the unique and seemingly far-fetched concept of being a romantic while also being happily single and playing the field. Over the years, this has proven to be the toughest nut to crack with most guys. On first dates, I love to spill the R-word and watch the immediate symptoms of phobia appear: beads of sweat slowly forming on the guy's forehead, fuelled by fear that my expectations of “us” have officially shot through the roof and we haven’t even ordered calamari yet. I watch the strain on his brow form, as he calculates just how much of his fantasy football money he’d have to sacrifice for drugstore red roses and specialty chocolates on Valentine’s Day. Meanwhile, I’m internally caught between laughter and nausea at the thought of this guy showing up to my door with a teddy bear and a half-off box of candies — his interpretation of what me being a romantic means. Listen, handsome, just because we're indulging in $18 ceviche and the most expensive Malbec on the menu doesn't mean this is more than a booty call for me.