Thanks for meeting me for a date. Let me just take off my hat and reveal my ratty, unkempt hair. Oh, don't shake my hand or hug me, I have a cold. Hold on, I have to blow my nose. Sorry, anyway, thanks for meeting for this date. Yeah, I know they have a dress code, but it's too cold for a suit coat, so I wore this puffy orange parka that my mom sent me. Wait, you're not my date? It's the other girl in the peacoat with the scarf covering her face, and the beanie pulled down over her forehead? Sorry, my mistake. Have a nice night.
This is the conversation that inevitably occurs during every date during the winter, increasing the odds you'll be forever alone. Winter is so sad.