A relationship's timeline can usually be mapped quite accurately by analysing the couple's dinner plans.
The early stages (0-6 months) are often characterised by the casual dinner date – when the couple takes their love-show on the road to rub other couples' faces in their joy and obvious frequent sexual activities. Those trapped in the later stages of Advanced Relationship Apathy may feel the urge to slap their smug little faces but fear not eventually all relationships will pass through these eight stages, and the circle of life is complete.
Here're 8 stages of a relationship as told through a couple's dinner plans:
Stage 1: Inappropriate use of cutlery (Part 1)
First date territory: Eating foodstuffs intended to be consumed in one's hands (your chicken wings, your sandwiches, your burgers) with cutlery. It looks ridiculous and who do we think we're fooling? He'll only have to spend approximately two more hours with us to discover just what kind of a dessert-savaging animal we really are.
Stage 2: Holding hands over the table making it near impossible for the waiter to do his job
Dates 2 through 4: When I worked as a waitress I had to fight the near unCONTROLLABLE urge to claw those loving f*ckers' hands apart. This is most likely why I no longer work in customer service. Also, it's just lame. STOP holding hands over dinner. STOP IT. It's show-boaty, just hold hands later when we all don't have to look at you.
Stage 3: "Let's never be those people." (Part 1)
I call this DEEP smug-mode – usually dates three through seven. I wager there is no couple in existence that hasn't at one time (probably while holding hands over the table) ducked their heads conspiratorially in a restaurant and whispered "let's never be those people," indicating that sad couple ensconced in Stage 7, sitting in silence eating their chicken wings with their hands and presumably quietly and sadly remembering what sex was like.
Stage 4: Takeaways and chill nights aka let's get fat together
Six months to a year: By now The Ride is a guarantee, so the restaurant outings are no longer a necessary and expensive mode of foreplay. This couple is easily spotted dashing from car to Thai place clutching their burgeoning love-gut to keep it from jiggling too much as they jog in for a spice bag and curry.
Stage 5: Eating in bed (in a good way)
During the takeaway and chill night period, savvy couples may begin to simply skip the living room portion of the evening altogether, instead opting for a cosy sex-picnic of pizza in bed with wine and chocolates. Dry foodstuffs is our recommendation for this section of the relationship.
Stage 6: Inappropriate use of cutlery (Part 2)
Year one: Eating Nutella directly from the jar with a spoon and/or using a fork to scratch yourself in front of your partner. Frankly, I consider doing this to be something of a relationship breakthrough, if you're in it for the long haul, it's time you both stopped pretending that you are not completely disgusting people.
Stage 7: Eating in bed (in a bad way) aka The End of romance as you know it
Years 2-4: Once there're curry sauce stains on the duvet, and the entire bed has been invaded by toast crumbs and other unwelcome foodstuffs, you know that the eating in bed sex-picnic has devolved dramatically. It's become a distinctly more sadness-tinged eating in bed barren sexless wasteland where there is zero potential for touching each other. Or orgasms originating from anything other than a particularly good sweet 'n' sour chicken balls with fried rice.
Stage 8: "Let's never be those people." (Part 2)
Year 3-10: Oh, it was the height of hubris to mock THOSE people because we ALL become THOSE people eventually. Greetings from stage 8! I can tell you this much: When sitting in complete silence barely even glancing up at The Man of a Friday night... I am more content than I have ever been. No more effort is required on my end, I am unburdened of the need to appear exciting or interesting. He's contractually obliged to sit in silence with me; we have spawned a loin-fruit together meaning we have secured a future sponge-bath-giver for our dotage, and I haven't had to interfere with my body hair in over a decade. It's f*cking bliss.
