Code Katie Couric

Art by Hannah Wacholtz (2020 archive)

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        For someone so young and so perpetually single, I know a lot about dating. Specifically, I know a lot about bad dates. At every Girls’ Night, my friends and I laugh ourselves to tears reminiscing upon the truly horrifying and almost unbelievable things I have experienced in my 21 years of life. The first time I met my best friend’s boyfriend, I rendered him speechless with a story about a truly embarrassing moment I had two years ago I had practically forgotten until I walked into my 9 A.M. class on the first day of last semester and saw the guy I had puked on after a few too many drinks, sitting right there in the back row. When I studied abroad, my new friends were convinced that my dating stories were tall tales invented to make them laugh. A therapist once told me I should do standup comedy and just talk about my dating life. My roommate’s mom looks forward to hearing me tell stories in the background of her calls with her daughter. I refuse to ever play the lottery, because my luck is really that bad.

        The point is–I’ve been on a lot of bad dates. 

        Sure, I’ve had my fair share of fairytale rom com novel-esque moments. There was the time a friend of a friend and I agreed that “this never happened” because it wasn’t worth causing drama with our friend over (this being one drink and a walk around my neighborhood). We turned a corner and walked on the sidewalk lit by street lamps and strikingly bright moonlight.

        “Are we still in a space of this never happened?” He stopped walking. 

        “I mean, we could if you want to be. Why?” A few steps ahead, I turned around to look at him.

        He grabbed my arm and pulled me into one of those movie kisses. I mean, a real running-down-the-street-in-the-snow-in-animal-print-underwear kiss. I almost quoted the final scene in Bridget Jones’s Diary where Bridget says “Wait a minute, nice boys don’t kiss like that.” Seriously, best kiss of my life and I never got to brag about it because it never happened. Now that I write that out, it doesn’t seem as romantic as it felt at the time, but I’m still considering it proof that not every date I’ve been on has been horrible.

        Most of them have, though, which is why I find myself anxiously planning a way out of every single date I go on before I even put on my makeup. My favorite self-soothing method in these pre-date moments is to remind myself that I can always use the code word. I’m not exactly sure which self-help book or self-proclaimed TikTok “dating coach” told me that I should have a code word with my friends to use on dates. Maybe I came up with it myself out of anxiety after listening to too many episodes of my favorite true crime podcast (Morbid, 10/10, 5 stars, I’m such a loyal fan). Maybe my friend suggested it to me so I’d stop worrying about getting stuck on a bad date. Or maybe the idea came to me in a dream, as a message from God, telling me to stop canceling first dates.

        Regardless of its origins, the code word is an important piece of my dating history, and of the dating histories of my closest friends. For some reason unbeknownst to me, my code word is Katie Couric. If you don’t know who that is because you’re under the age of forty, I’ll explain. Katie Couric was the first female solo news anchor on any of America’s “Big Three” broadcasting networks. Before that, she co-hosted The Today Show for fifteen years. She even had a colonoscopy live on national television to encourage Americans to get screened for colon cancer. Basically, she’s a badass. Her inspirational career has nothing to do with bad dates, but, nevertheless, she’s my code word. It’s difficult to explain Code Katie Couric in a way that doesn’t make me sound like a selfish, pessimistic, dishonest cynic, but I will try my best. In short, the code word is used when you need to get out of a bad date. It’s a relatively simple concept, but I feel that organizing the steps into a helpful list provides a more cohesive understanding of this essential dating tool. 

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                                                   How to Call a Code Katie Couric-

A Step-By-Step Guide for the Cynical Twenty-Somethings Who Have Realized Nashville’s Dating Scene Is Absolutely Horrible (Seriously, Mayor Freddie, Please Help)

For the Katie Couric-er:

1. If your date asks to go on a walk through Centennial Park at eleven PM, or if he tells you that you seem like you’re much more “fun” in private, or, God forbid, if he makes a joke about killing you, discreetly text your most reliable friend some iteration of “Katie Couric.” You can shorten it to “KC” if you’re wary of your under-the-table texting skills. You can even use Code Katie if you’re simply tired and ready to leave, but you don’t want to be rude. One time I used Code Katie on a Harvard guy who was nice, but with whom conversation felt like pulling teeth. Trust your gut. 
2. While you wait for the call, pretend like this date is going well. Smile, sip your drink, tell a fun story about your life, just do not act like you want to go home. 
3. When your friend calls, act confused for a second. Maybe a little annoyed. 

            Sorry, I don’t know what she wants. 

            Ugh, my roommate’s calling me, she never calls. 

            I told her I had plans tonight. Hold on, let me remind her. 

            Maybe miss the first call, roll your eyes, and apologize. 

4. On the phone, be urgent. Tell your friend you’re busy right now. Then, when she drops the bombshell, react accordingly. If she says she needs you to come home because her boyfriend just broke up with her and she needs you to hold her while she cries, roll your eyes and say “again?” so your date thinks you don’t actually care (but alas, you’re just so supportive). If she says she thinks she needs to go to the emergency room, tell her you’re on your way, and GTFO immediately. If she tells you she needs you to come help her move the couch (real example), sigh and ask if someone else could do it before agreeing. Whatever you do, don’t be suspicious. Dive deep into your soul and deliver an acting performance that would have Timothee Chalamet concerned for his career. 
5. Apologize to your date, but be firm. Make sure he knows that you HAVE to do whatever you just told your friend you would do. 
6. Get out of there and call your friend back. 

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For the Katie Couric-ee

1. Check in via text with your friend during her date. 
2. Make sure your phone is accessible. One time, I got a Code Katie while I was sleeping. Her date was projectile vomiting off the patio of a bar. Thankfully, my ringer was on. 
3. If you get a KC text, make sure you have a plan. Don’t call until you know what you’re gonna say. The “come home and move the couch” phone call would have been so much more believable if my friend had come up with a better story. 
4. Like the Couric-er, you must also give an Oscar-worthy performance. Make your friend question if you’re fulfilling the code or if there’s actually a reason you need her to abandon her date. The first time I ever used Code Katie, I answered the phone to sobs. Like, actual sobs. I don’t think she was faking. My friend sobbed so loudly that my date could hear her through my phone. That’s the level of performance I expect from you. I love my former roommate, but I do not see an acting career in her future. My date knew that “I’ve gotta go move a couch” really meant “you’re so boring and I’m slightly irritated that you didn’t even offer to pay for my coffee.” It didn’t take a Harvard education to see through that one. 

        Reminding myself of the code word has become an important part of my first date routine, alongside deep breathing, hype music, and my favorite Abercrombie jeans. I’ve repeated the code word under my breath like a mantra, walking into Jeni’s, or The Local, or the tourist-trap “cereal bar” by my house. Knowing that I have a way out, I smile and introduce myself to someone new. I ask him where he’s from, what he likes to do for fun, and all the other mandatory first-date questions. I order something sweet, chill, and maybe a little cool (three traits I do not possess), like lavender-honey ice cream or a locally produced bourbon cherry cider. I present the diluted version of myself and wait for the shoe to drop. I know something must be wrong, it just takes me a couple drinks or extended lulls in conversation to put my finger on what it is. Once I figure out why I need to leave, sending the text is easy. Five minutes later, I’m in my car listening to whatever song was next on Spotify’s “Confidence Getting Ready Mix” when I closed the app before the date. I feel light and airy and ready to exaggerate the date's shortcomings slightly to my friends (I’m nothing if not a good storyteller).

        For me, cynicism is relieving. How can I be disappointed if I keep my expectations low? When I use Code Katie, I can come home, laugh with my friends, and tell the story of how my date took me to Cookout and then said he might drive us to a secluded spot and murder me. If I hadn’t prepared myself for the worst, I would have cried that night instead of adding the story to my list of hilarious-but-slightly-concerning things men have said to me on first dates. 

        I can act like I always knew this would happen, like I always expect every date to suck. Telling myself that any date I go on is going to end in a Code Katie and laughter-filled debrief in my pajamas allows me to quiet the voice whispering that this time, it might go well. If I can’t hear that voice, I can’t be shocked or upset when its dreams are not fulfilled. 

        I promise I’m a very bright and fun person, even if it seems like I hate men and the world. One day I may give up on Code Katie and allow that hopeful voice to sing in my ears as I walk to Jeni’s, or The Local, or somewhere else that is definitely not the touristy “cereal bar” by my house. For now, I’ll take my cynicism and continue brainstorming get-out-of-date-free card ideas for my friends to use over the phone, and I’ll do it proudly. I’ll wear my favorite jeans and convince myself that I’m just looking for a funny story to tell at dinner parties. Maybe I’ll even start working on that standup routine.

        I have so many years left to hope and cry and place pressure on first dates to lead to second ones. I think it’s okay to doomsday prep before getting ice cream with a physics student from Vanderbilt, or to cringe when I walk into class and see that guy from my sophomore year “PukeGate” incident. Being cynical isn’t a bad thing, especially when it leads to quality time with my friends and being the funniest person at every party. This is a piece of advice for all young women out there who think dating is a chore: Be more cynical and get your friends some acting lessons. I can’t promise they’ll put the acting skills to use, but I promise they’ll thank you for being the friend who is so hilariously unlucky when it comes to dating.

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