I’ve seen a lot of first dates. In 30 years of bartending, it’s probably around 10,000. There’s an idiom floating around that it takes 10,000 repetitions to become an expert. In that regard, I’ll take it — the observational part of it, because it’s been about 30 years since I was actually on a first date myself.

She arrived early, which isn’t all that unusual. People are usually at their best the first time around — or at least what they consider to be their best. There are degrees and scales to everything.

She had on a T-shirt, jeans, heels and earrings. But those 30 years of marriage have taught me four things:

• Women’s T-shirts can often be more than $100.

• Women’s jeans can be $300 or more.

• Heels can be twice that.

• Earrings aren’t an accidental choice.

She asked a few practical questions about the wines on the wine list but didn’t order anything. Those questions went beyond simple descriptions like “dry” or “French,” which really don’t mean anything.

Her date arrived just slightly late, but what do they say? “Early is on time, on time is late and late is unacceptable.” But first dates are about acceptance as much as they are about red flags. Pessimists usually don’t go on first dates, but they do go on last ones.

Being casual on a first date is one thing, but there’s such a thing as too casual. There’s a difference between being casual and not caring at all. A stained trucker hat, cargo shorts and paint-dappled work boots were definitely too casual — at least in the opinion of an expert.

She overlooked all of that. A handshake and an introduction proved the firstness of the situation. Two menus were offered, because first dates are all about individuality. Sharing a menu comes later. This also meant that the specials would have to be presented to each person, and not generally, and there would be two different drinks. And most importantly, no one would be ordering for anyone else.

“She’ll have a chardonnay,” said the man, apparently unaware of all of that.

If the clothes weren’t a faux pas, then that certainly was.

“I don’t like chardonnay,” she said.

“You don’t?” he asked.“No, I don’t,” she said.

A brief discussion about why that might be ensued, only ending when she said: “The vermentino.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” he said.

Just because you haven’t heard of something doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist. We are all the products of our own experience, for better or for worse.

But the stage was set for the rest of the evening. The discussion centered on likes and dislikes, as first dates so often go. Second dates are usually about past experiences, especially past relationships, and third dates, well, they’re about something else.

A pattern soon developed. He tried to order for her, and she didn’t let him. And then he explained why his choice was better. And she disagreed, pleasantly at first, and then with increasing displeasure.

They say there’s “truth in wine” (in vino veritas), but I’ve learned that it’s not usually the truth one wants to hear. Often it’s the truth that one wishes that they wouldn’t have said.

The second glass of wine began to reveal that truth, which became apparent when he criticized her choice of vehicle.

“I can’t believe you spent your money on one of those,” he said.

Some people just can’t help themselves.

“What do you drive?” she asked.

He proudly explained that he had a truck — a brand-new really big truck.

“Did you pay cash for it?” she asked. “Because I paid cash for mine.”

“No,” he replied.

“So, you paid, what, $55,000, for a vehicle, and then you financed it, which means you will spend about $62,000 in total on it. And it depreciated 25% as soon as you drove it off the lot,” she said.

He didn’t know what to say.

“Uh, I don’t know about all that,” he said.

“No, you don’t,” she interrupted. “I have owned my own business for years. And I pay all my bills. So, you’ll excuse me if I don’t take advice from someone who lost $15,000 in less than an hour on a truck that they don’t even need. For goodness sakes, you’re a computer programmer.”

“Actually, I was,” he said. “I’m unemployed right now.”

Leaving me with these thoughts:

• Don’t just swipe right. You really should read the profile, too.

• Often it’s the most ignorant who are the first to give advice.

• We settle for what we think we deserve — or we don’t. One is the circumstance of failure; the other is the key to success.

• If you can’t understand it without an explanation, you probably aren’t going to understand it with one either.

• I have seen 10,000 last dates, too.

Jeff Burkhart is the author of “Twenty Years Behind Bars: The Spirited Adventures of a Real Bartender, Vol. I and II,” the host of the Barfly Podcast on iTunes (as seen in the NY Times) and an award-winning bartender at a local restaurant. Follow him at jeffburkhart.net and contact him at jeffbarflyIJ@outlook.com