I’ve been on my fair share of blind dates and I can honestly say, they have all been bad. What’s worse to me then the blind date itself, is the friend that thought it would be a good idea in the first place. I was always under the impression that blind dates were somewhat of an act of pity or charity. But the friend who conspired against you will tell you “I want this to happen because I think so highly of both of you.”
No they don’t… they just have a sick sense of humor. Here’s why I feel this way.
My first blind date happened the summer after my sophomore year of college. I was in Whitefish, MT (where I have been spent many-a-summer) and bored out of my mind. A friend of my mom’s knew of an “attractive, eligible bachelor” that would be fun getting to know. “Good ‘ol Texas boy.” Uh huh.
He called. I answered. We arranged the time and place. Date set.
I show up to this quaint little French restaurant and I guessed that he was the man sitting all by his lonesome on the outdoor patio at a table for two.
“Hi, are you…..?” I can not remember this guy’s name now, so we’ll call him Joe.
“Yeah,” he answered. Didn’t get up, shake my hand, pull my chair. Nada. Not sure what part of Texas he was from but clearly, he didn’t live there long enough.
Conversation was OK, at best. There were some awkward pauses here and there and subject matter that I couldn’t follow along with to save my life. Needless to say, the best part of the date was leaving. Strike 1.
My next blind date was my own doing. The following summer, I was back in Montana and working at a restaurant as a waitress (which I miss terribly). Two UPS men were seated in my section: one an older gentleman, the other hot more my age. Thank God for those brown shorts.
Serving them was fun and easy. They were chipper, patient, and engaging; asked where I was from (my accent tends to make people wonder), what I was doing in Montana, etc.
When they left, I went to gather my change when I noticed what looked like writing on the back of the receipt. I flipped it over and on the back, the young hot one had left me his number and a request for dinner sometime soon.
“Heck yes!” I thought to myself. So I called. He answered. We arranged the time and place. Date set.
Date sucked… yet again. The entire date, he talked about the process of making beer. I don’t have anything against beer, but the art and calculation on just how to hold a bong ain’t the way to get this girl’s attention. Strike 2.
The last and latest is my favorite. Blind date “numero tres” never actually even happened. He asked to reschedule… then didn’t. And, BONUS, in a seriously twisted and terrible act of fate (and irony) I found out that he had seriously dated a friend of a friend, who I met the weekend before. I know it doesn’t sound too convoluted, but I am telling you, the social network of the entire state of Colorado shrunk to the size of an atom. Strike 3.
If you are someone’s friend and have the intention of setting them up on a blind date, please do them a favor and do your homework. Even Kevin Bacon knows the “6-degrees of seperation” theory.
I’d hate to give the impression that I am bitter or cynical. But for the sanity of men and women everywhere… please stop setting your friends up on blind dates because at the end of the day, no one is actually blind, right?