At least as far as my experience goes. That is exactly two blind dates, this one set up by my hairdresser, a woman whose opinion I had – until then – trusted. For a while afterward, I kind of wanted to drive by and lob eggs at her house every time the disaster came to mind.
She said she knew this really nice guy who would be perfect for me. And the more she told me about him, the more I thought she might be right. So it was with excitement that I got ready for to go out with this wonderful specimen of a man…
Did I mention that this happened when my family lived in a small town up north? And I mean a really small town. It’s grown a lot since we were there – to a staggering 733. Yes, you read that correctly. As of earlier this year, there is absolutely no need to put a comma in that number. When we moved away, it must have been like a ghost town.
The reason I mention this is that it seems the attitude about relationships in small towns – or at least that small town – was a cross between ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ and ‘Prince Charming? Never heard of the fella.’
First red flag that Mr. Perfection might not be the one? He was short on cash so I’d have to pay for my own supper. Now, I’m not saying he should have had to pay for my meal, but I’m kind of old fashioned and this was my first experience in going dutch.
Second red flag? The fact that the main topic of conversation was his ex. And he talked about her – the entire time we were at the restaurant. It seems she had recently dumped him. I totally understood why.
Third red flag? After we’d eaten, his idea of a good time was to drive through the parking lots of all of the bars in town to tell me which of his friends was at each one. Seriously. That’s what we did – until I told him I thought I might be getting a headache.
Fourth red flag? The fact that after such a wonderful (not!) date, he started getting a little friendly during the drive home. I managed to avoid hand-holding and the old arm-around-my-shoulders, but the most amazing feat of avoidance came when he pulled into my driveway. It was clear he intended to walk me to my door – and I was having none of that. It was then I discovered I was capable of moving faster than I ever imagined. Somehow, I managed to thank him for the evening, tell him goodbye, jump out of the truck, and let myself into my apartment – before he even got his door open.
He actually had the nerve to complain to the hairdresser that I didn’t kiss him goodnight. Um… Yeah. I didn’t.
What about you? Have you ever been on a blind date? Was it more successful than the one I just told you about?
I’ve never heard of this song before, but I’m thinking Mr. Perfection would have been shunned by this crowd.