You sit down at a bar and order a cocktail, waiting for your blind date to arrive. You scan the restaurant when a guy with a scruffy beard and neon sneakers walks towards you and introduces himself: Alex—your date. You start chatting; you tell him where you grew up, what you do for a living, how much you love your cat. As you talk, you try to read his facial expressions. Does he also love cats? Wait, was that the beginning of a grimace…maybe he hates cats?