The Blind Date

To my recollection, I have had one blind date in my lifetime.  I’d guess that it was circa 1980, and a group of friends decided that they’d had enough with my singleness.

I was told that “we have a lot of single women in our church” and that I would be in line to go out with bunches of them.  OK. So, they set the first one up.

It would be me, her, and two other couples for a night out. Great. I’m not good in single-person situations, so it’ll be nice to have others to bounce the conversation off.

The night started at a friend’s house, where they extolled my virtues to this unsuspecting woman. She wasn’t anything spectacular, but then, neither am I. So I figured I’d play it out and see how it goes.

Once we finished the “character-building” portion of the night, we all went out bowling. Great. Bowling. Nothing like bowling.

It gave me a chance to be kind of funny, and still blend into the surroundings. I’m a decent enough bowler, and nobody really cares anyway, so what the Hell.

We probably went somewhere to eat something, but I don’t recall. I remember the bowling.

Once we got back, there were the regular exchanges, and I was offered the opportunity to drive her home. OK. I can do that.

We had some conversation, and we got to her home when I said, “I’d like to see you again,” after which I got the stare. I know the stare. It’s the moment between hearing the proposal and figuring out how they’re going to refuse it.

“Well … [I knew this wasn’t good] I’m kind of interested in a guy at work, and if it doesn’t work out with him …”

I said, “OK fine” or something like that. 

When I relayed this exchange to the gang, they were apoplectic. “That guy doesn’t even know she’s alive,” was the reply.  They were as disappointed as I was, and said “If you don’t want to see her again, that’s fine.”

Yeah, that is fine.  Although, I never had another blind date from the friends who said that they had a lot of women for me.

Still waiting on that one.