Two men sitting on a park bench in front of a theater, one is looking unhappy and the other is looking away into the distance while holding a food takeout container

Years ago, I had a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see Stephen Hawking speak in person in Atlanta. I was thrilled — this was Stephen Hawking — one of the greatest minds on the planet, and I had a ticket!

Unfortunately, I brought along a friend who turned out to be, shall we say, nutritionally unstable. He hadn’t eaten dinner and was growing increasingly whiny, sulky, and dramatic about it. Finally, he moaned, “I’m starving. Can we just go get some food?”

Being a good friend (or at least trying to be one), I said, “Sure, let’s go get you something to eat.”

That was my mistake.

What I should have said was: “Go get yourself some dinner — I’m going to hear this genius speak!”

I’ve regretted that decision ever since. Hawking’s talk was a rare opportunity — the kind of thing people remember forever — and I missed it because someone couldn’t power through their pre-dinner grumpiness.

Lesson learned.


Fast-forward to my dating life.

I once had a first date show up hangry — truly, clinically hangry. We had tickets for a stand-up comedy show, but the only thing funny that night was how dramatically he complained about being hungry. Every food suggestion I made was met with a complaint or an eye roll. Apparently, no cuisine on Earth could satisfy his delicate palate or his inner monster.

The date ended quickly. Without dinner. And without a second date.


Then there was another one. (You’d think I’d start screening for blood sugar issues by now.)

We met at the bar of a nice restaurant for drinks. Within two minutes he announced, “I haven’t eaten all day.” I had ordered some house-made potato chips for myself — which he promptly devoured as though he hadn’t seen food since the Bush administration — and then insisted we get a table so he could “have something substantial.”

Fine. He ate, his mood miraculously improved, and then we stopped for ice cream after leaving the restaurant.

But no amount of dessert could sweeten the fact that this was not a match.


The Moral of the Story

Take care of yourself.

If you want to make a good impression, don’t show up hangry — especially on a first date or to an event that matters. It’s not your companion’s responsibility to feed you, fix you, or manage your blood sugar levels.

If you know you’re prone to hunger-induced personality shifts, eat a snack first. A banana, a granola bar, a handful of almonds — something. Anything. Because showing up hangry is the fastest way to derail what could have been a wonderful evening.

And trust me: once you’ve missed Stephen Hawking and two potential relationships because of hunger, you start to realize — the problem isn’t the food.

It’s the failure to show up ready.