I've had a lot of first dates since my divorce. I make the man pick where we are going so I don't do all the work.

• I've had some weird first dates since I got divorce.
• I think the perfect first date is to grab coffee, so no one can get drunk and it happens during the day.

On the occasion of my first date post-divorce, which wasn't until 10 months after the initial breakup, I actually had two offers.

The first one who asked — who I did go out with — was for a coffee walk. The second was to pick up trash. I believe this is a noble cause and a creative idea for a date, but maybe not for a first date.

I've had lots of first dates I didn't like

I've been asked to ride scooters on a first date. I politely had us switch to a walk because I'm not known for my balance and didn't own a helmet. How can you chit-chat when you're screaming into ongoing traffic?

I've been taken to a bar for dinner only to find out they don't serve dinner, and had to leave after an hour because my low blood sugar was making me unable to follow the conversation.

I've been asked to meet up on a summer day and climb a mountain, which I guess sounds like fun to a lot of people, but it clearly states in my profile that, unlike many Pacific Northwesterners, I am not fond of hikes. I am fond of exercise, yes, but alone or with my dog. And I'm fond of looking at nature, but I'm notoriously klutzy and spend every hike attempting to remain on the trail and not careening to my death. Excuse me if I don't want you to see me sweat upon the first meeting.

I do believe in the possibility of a good first date. I've even had a couple.

The types of dates I like

I like a coffee date or a coffee and neighborhood walk date. No one's going to get uncomfortably drunk like they might at a happy hour. Coffee takes place during the day and in public. "Stay Sexy and Don't Get Murdered," my friend tells me before I meet someone new, quoting the "My Favorite Murder" podcast.

I anticipate people might say I should live a little and try to have some fun on these dates. But I believe it is not too much to ask that a casual first date cost less than $10 a person and not result in my untimely demise.

If I want to splurge on a fancy dinner or embark on a full-day nature adventure, I want it to be with someone I know I enjoy spending more than an hour with, which is not something either of us can promise one another on a first date.

My therapist suggested I pick the coffee shop

Yet, even on my one-hour coffee dates, I still feel uncomfortable. What if I'm late? Or early? What if I have to sit on a stool and I'm wearing shorts and have to keep track of my legs and posture for an hour? What if he makes too much eye contact, or I can't stop looking at his teeth? What if the sound of the coffee maker is so loud it drowns out our conversation and sends me into sensory overload? What if the conversation stalls or he says something that makes me want to bolt? What if we go for a walk, and I trip and embarrass myself or run into someone I know and don't want to see?

Recounting my woes to my therapist, she suggested I be the one to orchestrate my dates. I can pick a nice, paved walk or a cozy, not-too-loud coffee shop.

This, of course, makes sense. But one reason I like the man to pick the locale is that I want to see if he can. So many women I know hold the full mental load for their households or love life.

They plan the dates, remember the invitations to friends' parties, make the grocery list before hosting, book the vacation, research the local attractions, etc. Not all of my friends live their lives this way, but I did in my previous life, and I'd like to change the dynamic. I don't want to carry the team before the relationship even begins.

In a best-case scenario, he picks a cool new coffee place I've not yet tried, and we get to go on a pleasant walk through an interesting neighborhood or along the water. We can call it after an hour, sure, or we can order another cup of coffee or take another loop around the block. Or, if it goes poorly, I can call up a friend, inform her I have not been murdered, and we can go on a proper outing.