And so on.

The vast majority of first dates end up in that abyss of ambivalence: nice person, but not much of a connection. Or nice person, bad timing. Or nice person, but do I like them enough to suffer through Metro delays or traffic to make this work? (Peruse The Washington Post Magazine’s Date Lab long enough and you’ll see what I mean.)

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Which makes certainty — whether it’s positive or negative — quite special and rare. Certainty is the one thing that a good and bad date have in common.

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For example, I went on a date recently, where I knew, after about 30 minutes of conversation, that I wasn’t interested. Being able to say, “Yeah, this isn’t going to work out” was nearly as satisfying as that amazing first date where I might say, “Let’s do this again” and really mean it.

So here’s what happened: I was on a first date with man who’s a Donald Trump supporter, a tidbit I did not know ahead of time. (Thanks, JSwipe.)

Most Trump supporters are men. So as a heterosexual woman, I’m more likely to end up on a date with one. As the editor of this blog about unmarried life, I’ve published a few columns from women in liberal cities who’ve been surprised to find themselves on dates with Trump supporters. But in the Washington area, which is quite liberal, I had yet to meet one, let alone end up on a date with one.

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Normally, I don’t like to talk about politics on dates. I’m more concerned with getting to know the person sitting across from me than for whom they’re voting. So we started with some of the biographical stuff and pretty quickly realized that his brother is married to a wonderful woman with whom I’d studied abroad. (One point in the pro column.) He also seemed genuinely interested in my job, rather than intimidated by it. Some guys get skittish when I tell them that I write about dating. (Another pro.)

But those two things alone do not a match or connection make. Once he told me that he worked for a Republican on the Hill, I had to ask: Are you a Trump supporter?

Yes, he said. No caveats or equivocations. Just yes.

I didn’t want to get into an argument. But I did want to gently ask about my date’s political allegiance, and how that might intersect or contradict with his Jewish identity. (About 20 percent of American Jews support Trump, so my date has company.) When I asked whether he had concerns about how Trump might handle the delicate politics of the U.S.-Israel relationship and the Middle East in general, he responded that Trump was on the same page with the Israelis on how to handle terrorism and security.

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“Besides,” he said, leaning in so the bar patrons on either side of us wouldn’t hear, “he wants to get rid of the Muslims.”

His tone of voice and the look on his face said: You’re a Jew. I’m a Jew. Surely we agree on this, right?

I was stunned, though maybe I shouldn’t have been surprised. A large swath of Americans who are aligned with Trump want to ban Muslims, or at least keep a closer eye on them. But I am not one of them.

I felt certain that someone who’s aligned with Trump isn’t for me. This wasn’t a political mismatch, but one of deeply held values. So I had the distinct pleasure of telling him something I’ve never said while on a first date: “Yeah … this isn’t going to work out.”

So my “bad date” was pretty great in that I knew, with certainty, that after one date there wouldn’t be a second.