Time To Get Jiggy... But Where?

Ah, the majestic world of online dating, where you've been wooing this rando with your oh-so-clever emoji usage and pixelated charm.

Brace yourself for the big reveal: Will he look like his pic or more like Shrek's long-lost cousin? Will there be a spark? Or maybe just a sad, lonely pair of undies on the floor the next morning, begging for attention? Only time will tell.

Now, it's time for the million-dollar question: Where should this "magical" moment happen? A Starbucks where the only thing weaker than the Wi-Fi is your connection with each other, or someplace more personal like your pigsty or his? Depends on how much you enjoy potential cringe-fests.

If you're a daring masochist, go ahead and meet at your place or his. But if you've been around the block a few times, you'll understand why I'd rather get a root canal than show up at a stranger's door (or vice versa), even if it's just for a roll in the hay.

The chance of an awkward, soul-crushing experience is sky-high. If you're not into him, how do you pull an escape without being a jerk? If he's smitten and wants you to stay, how do you vamoose? If he's at your place, you'll have to play bouncer at your own pity party.

And what if you're into him, and he's not? Getting booted out the door faster than a drunk at closing time is rough. You'll probably recover from that bruised ego slower than the STD you might catch.

Then there's the looming disaster of the "Why Did I Do This?" convenient romp. It starts with a thought: "I'm here, and he's not that hideous." But it almost always ends with another thought: "Sweet mother of mercy, what have I just done?!"

Honestly, I don't care which way you swing—if you're cool with showing up at a stranger's door like an awkward, sexy pizza delivery, knock yourself out. Bonus points if he's followed my Rule of Nines photo strategy and erased any doubt about his looks. Now, the real question is...

Is It Safer At Your Dumpster Or His?

"Safe sex" gets a whole new meaning when you're hooking up with Mr. Mystery, especially if you're on vacation. HIV fears are a thing of the past compared to the risk of being stabbed and left for dead like a bad punchline.

In the age-old debate of "Your place or mine?", there's a heap of stats to prove one option is riskier.

And it's your place, not his.

According to Dallas Drake, Homicide Researcher for the Minnesota Gay Homicide Study, the numbers show that most homosexual murders happen in the victim's home.

Why? Here's what Drake said:

"If he comes to your place, he can off you and stroll out, while at his place, he's stuck with the annoying task of body disposal. A murder in his own crib would also create a permanent link to his identity due to unerasable evidence on his property. Blood trace evidence can be detected for at least 20 years later, even when not visible to the naked eye."

This isn't just a theory. Cold, hard stats from sources like the FBI show that most male homosexual victims meet their maker in their own homes.

Only serial nutjobs like Jeffrey Dahmer or John Wayne Gacy get their kicks in their own space, and those guys are rarer than a funny knock-knock joke.

So there you have it. Your place or his? His.