Proof that blind dates are only for other people's reading pleasure

"Date Lab" is a weekly feature that was recently introduced by The Washington Post Magazine in order to get members of my generation to read it. It's working.

It's fabulously outrageous and not nearly as awkwardly awful to watch as dating shows, mostly because the vast majority of dates are like reading a play-by-play of a horrific car accident. How many times does a guy have to read "Date Lab" in order to understand that it's not OK to mention that a girl ate a lot at dinner, and it was probably because the Post was paying for it?

The single exception was the eye-rolling inducing date that ended in an engagement four weeks later.

While both guys and dolls present themselves as douchebags during their date labs, this week, the male dater was truly a colostomy bag and an outrage:

"I didn't know the whole night that she was black — (not that) it would have made a difference. Culturally, she's a white girl. I may have to go back and talk to the hostess, though. She was a sista with dreadlocks. Definitely my type: young, cute and skinny."

Who says that in print?