The Blind Dates:
Everyone had a friend, friend of a friend, brother, uncle, cousin, son or whoever and every one of them wanted to set me up on a blind date. Nice person that I am, I didn’t want to hurt any feelings so I went – how bad could it be?
Blind Date No. 1: The doorbell rang. I drew a deep breath and marched forward. My source said he was newly single, had one child and was looking to date again. Okay. Sounded interesting. I opened the door and. . .a young woman was standing on the porch. I gawked in surprise. Omigawd! I was horrified. Did my source think I was gay? How awful!
“Hi,” she smiled, holding out her hand. “My name’s Mary. I know this is really weird, but my brother’s so nervous, he was too scared to come to the door. I’m really sorry about this.”
I shook her hand, breathing a sign of almost relief. “Um. . .no problem whatsoever. Did he even come with you?” I asked, leaning around to look.
“He’s out in the car. We thought we’d go to Dino’s for dinner—if that’s okay with you?”
I grabbed my purse and followed her off the porch. Sure enough. There was a male sitting in the car. Not bad. Normal, but sort of pale and shaky looking.
Everyone had a friend, friend of a friend, brother, uncle, cousin, son or whoever and every one of them wanted to set me up on a blind date. Nice person that I am, I didn’t want to hurt any feelings so I went – how bad could it be?
Blind Date No. 1: The doorbell rang. I drew a deep breath and marched forward. My source said he was newly single, had one child and was looking to date again. Okay. Sounded interesting. I opened the door and. . .a young woman was standing on the porch. I gawked in surprise. Omigawd! I was horrified. Did my source think I was gay? How awful!
“Hi,” she smiled, holding out her hand. “My name’s Mary. I know this is really weird, but my brother’s so nervous, he was too scared to come to the door. I’m really sorry about this.”
I shook her hand, breathing a sign of almost relief. “Um. . .no problem whatsoever. Did he even come with you?” I asked, leaning around to look.
“He’s out in the car. We thought we’d go to Dino’s for dinner—if that’s okay with you?”
I grabbed my purse and followed her off the porch. Sure enough. There was a male sitting in the car. Not bad. Normal, but sort of pale and shaky looking.
I opened the back door and climbed in. Might as well keep this on a “friends only” basis.
Dino’s is a nice place. Italian food and good music. A nice start.
We were seated and the waitress brought menus.
“Do you see the prices?” he grumbled, frowning at the list. “I only brought twenty dollars.”
“That’s okay,” I was quick to reply. “I’m more than happy to pay for my own.”
“You will not,” Mary gasped. She scowled at her brother. “I’ll lend you the money until pay day.” I was so embarrassed. “No. Really! I don’t mind.”
“See,” he said. “She doesn’t mind. I think it’s great.”
“She. Will. Not. Pay.” Mary slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s a date—remember?
I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and water to drink. Blind date No. 1 - No.
Blind Date No. 2: My brother Kev set the date up--an old friend of his, Taylor. My brother said it would be fun. Okay. I was game. I didn’t live in the same town so I drove up and decided to spend the night with my parents.
“You aren’t going to like him,” my mother murmured, concern written all over her face. “He just isn’t somebody you’d date.”
“He can’t be that bad, Mom,” I replied, my naiveté showing. “Kev wouldn’t set me up with a creep or anything.”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “He just doesn’t seem right for you.”
We agreed to meet downtown. My brother, another friend of his, Lowell, and I headed out. I wasn’t nervous. After all, my brother set up the date. I trusted him.
Lowell nudged my arm. “You aren’t going to like him.”
The second person in less than a half hour to say the same thing. Okay, I’m getting anxious now.
The bar was in full swing when we arrived. Kev cased the place, looked for his friend. G
rowing more anxious by the minute, I found a chair and sat down. Lowell plunked down next to me.
“Why won’t I like him?”
“He’s just…different.”
I’m only five foot two inches, but Taylor was shorter than me—and probably three times as broad. Long hair and sideburns reminded me of a homely aging Elvis, complete with bell-bottomed pants, an open white silk shirt with a leather vest, and more chains than I could count covering his flabby and overly hairy chest.
Dino’s is a nice place. Italian food and good music. A nice start.
We were seated and the waitress brought menus.
“Do you see the prices?” he grumbled, frowning at the list. “I only brought twenty dollars.”
“That’s okay,” I was quick to reply. “I’m more than happy to pay for my own.”
“You will not,” Mary gasped. She scowled at her brother. “I’ll lend you the money until pay day.” I was so embarrassed. “No. Really! I don’t mind.”
“See,” he said. “She doesn’t mind. I think it’s great.”
“She. Will. Not. Pay.” Mary slapped him on the shoulder. “It’s a date—remember?
I ordered the cheapest thing on the menu and water to drink. Blind date No. 1 - No.
Blind Date No. 2: My brother Kev set the date up--an old friend of his, Taylor. My brother said it would be fun. Okay. I was game. I didn’t live in the same town so I drove up and decided to spend the night with my parents.
“You aren’t going to like him,” my mother murmured, concern written all over her face. “He just isn’t somebody you’d date.”
“He can’t be that bad, Mom,” I replied, my naiveté showing. “Kev wouldn’t set me up with a creep or anything.”
“I don’t know,” she sighed. “He just doesn’t seem right for you.”
We agreed to meet downtown. My brother, another friend of his, Lowell, and I headed out. I wasn’t nervous. After all, my brother set up the date. I trusted him.
Lowell nudged my arm. “You aren’t going to like him.”
The second person in less than a half hour to say the same thing. Okay, I’m getting anxious now.
The bar was in full swing when we arrived. Kev cased the place, looked for his friend. G
rowing more anxious by the minute, I found a chair and sat down. Lowell plunked down next to me.“Why won’t I like him?”
“He’s just…different.”
I’m only five foot two inches, but Taylor was shorter than me—and probably three times as broad. Long hair and sideburns reminded me of a homely aging Elvis, complete with bell-bottomed pants, an open white silk shirt with a leather vest, and more chains than I could count covering his flabby and overly hairy chest.
He stuck out his hand. “See that ring.”
I did. Pretty impressive. More diamonds than I’d seen in awhile.
“Every time I get engaged and we break up, I get the ring back and add the diamond to my ring.”
Let me see! There had to be at least twenty diamonds on that pudgy finger.
A big-bosomed girl passed our table. His eyes devoured her. He whirled, running after her. That was the last I saw of him.
Later I asked my brother why?
“He hasn’t had a date in quite awhile.”
Was I happy? Blind Date No. 2 – Really! No!
Blind Date No. 3: “He’s perfect for you. He’s really handsome, looks like Tom Selleck.”
Hmmm. Tom Selleck? That I could handle. Without further hesitation. “Okay.”
Now I should’ve paid more attention. My co-worker’s husband looked like Don Knotts with a whole lot less hair. But she said her friend was handsome, had a job, and had been divorced for quite some time.
I waited outside. The moment arrived. A beat-up dirty old Buick drove up. The driver leaned over and shoved the door open.
“You Patsy?”
Uh. This had to be the wrong guy! Never in my wildest nightmares would I compare this guy to Tom Selleck. Tom Selleck’s mutt maybe--but not Tom Selleck!
Empty beer cans and garbage littered everything. Spots of liquid and food stains covered the seat. I brushed a small space free and climbed in, full of dark misgivings.
“I thought we’d go play some pool,” he said, popping open a Bud. He took a long swig. “You any good at pool?”
His foot punched down and the car jumped away from the curb. We flew towards the intersection and careened around a corner.
I held on, scrambling for my seatbelt. “Do you think you should be drinking and driving?” I asked, whispering the Lord’s Prayer to myself. “Might want to slow down.”
Cans and bottles rolled and bounced against my legs and feet, spewing liquid on the hem of my best jeans and drenching my sandaled toes.
“No cops around,” he coughed, spitting fluid. He wiped his face with his hand. “Not worried anyway.”
“Well, I’m worried.” Worried for my safety, my self-preservation, the lives of my children if I died. Mundane, everyday thoughts.
I wasn’t a pool player, so I was more than happy to let him find another opponent. The pool game dragged for hours it seemed. He drank like a fish, burping and laughing at his own coarse humor.
I wanted to kill my co-worker. How dare she put me in this situation!
Finally. “I need to get home,” I said. “My sister’s babysitting and I promised her I wouldn’t stay late.”
‘No problem.” His drunken eyes leered at me. “I’m ready to go myself.”
Crap! “No. No,” I said. “You’re having a good time and I don’t want to ruin it for you. I’ll call a cab.” And save myself some grief.
He stroked my arm. I thought I’d puke.
“I’ll take you home, baby,” he whispered. “We still have some talking to do.”
Omigawd!
He was insistent and I was still too stupid and scared to stand up for myself. I followed him out the door, my heart thumping in my chest. Did I dare get in the car again?
He drove like a maniac, skidding to a stop, punching the gas and zipping through traffic. I prayed the whole way home.
The car swerved, jumped the sidewalk and stopped. Panicked, I threw myself out the door.
“Thanks,” I yelled over my shoulder, not forgetting my manners.
I ran up the steps, fumbling for the keys. He was right behind me.
“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” His hand stroked my butt cheek.
“Uh. I don’t kiss on the first date.” I wiggled the door handle
“Aw, come on, baby. I deserve a little kiss.”
I was going to faint. I knew I was—but if I fainted, I’d be fair game. What to do?
The door opened. My sister’s sleepy face peered out. She looked at me and then at him, realization dawned in her expression. The door opened wider.
I slipped through. She slammed the door in his face.
Blind Date No. 3 – Definitely--No.
Blind Date No. 4: “You have to meet my uncle. He has his own business. He’s rich.”
Rich was good!
First impressions were not bad. He took me to a nice place for dinner and we were seated. From earlier experiences, I was ready to pay my own way and I made sure he knew it.
“It’s a date,” he objected, smiling. “Later down the road, if you want, you can treat once in awhile.”
Okay, he was looking better!
“I live in a singles only apartment complex down by Julia Davis Park.”
“Oh. How…interesting.” Singles apartment?
“Yeah,” be continue
d. “We have a big hot tub and we all like to get naked and jump in.”
“Oh,” I fiddled with my fork. “Sounds. . .” Creepy—yeah, creepy. That’s the word I’m looking for.
The food arrived.
“Maybe you’d like to come over sometime.” He started eating. “Afterwards, me and a few of the girls like to play.”
“Play?” I asked, not really wanting to know what he meant.
“Yeah. I like threesomes, with me in the middle. A human sandwich,” he laughed.
Omigawd! Not again! Blind Date No. 4 – Hell No!
My search for the perfect soulmate suffered some horrendous setbacks. But I wasn't ready to give up yet.
I did. Pretty impressive. More diamonds than I’d seen in awhile.
“Every time I get engaged and we break up, I get the ring back and add the diamond to my ring.”
Let me see! There had to be at least twenty diamonds on that pudgy finger.
A big-bosomed girl passed our table. His eyes devoured her. He whirled, running after her. That was the last I saw of him.
Later I asked my brother why?
“He hasn’t had a date in quite awhile.”
Was I happy? Blind Date No. 2 – Really! No!
Blind Date No. 3: “He’s perfect for you. He’s really handsome, looks like Tom Selleck.”
Hmmm. Tom Selleck? That I could handle. Without further hesitation. “Okay.”
Now I should’ve paid more attention. My co-worker’s husband looked like Don Knotts with a whole lot less hair. But she said her friend was handsome, had a job, and had been divorced for quite some time.
I waited outside. The moment arrived. A beat-up dirty old Buick drove up. The driver leaned over and shoved the door open.
“You Patsy?”
Uh. This had to be the wrong guy! Never in my wildest nightmares would I compare this guy to Tom Selleck. Tom Selleck’s mutt maybe--but not Tom Selleck!
Empty beer cans and garbage littered everything. Spots of liquid and food stains covered the seat. I brushed a small space free and climbed in, full of dark misgivings.
“I thought we’d go play some pool,” he said, popping open a Bud. He took a long swig. “You any good at pool?”
His foot punched down and the car jumped away from the curb. We flew towards the intersection and careened around a corner.
I held on, scrambling for my seatbelt. “Do you think you should be drinking and driving?” I asked, whispering the Lord’s Prayer to myself. “Might want to slow down.”
Cans and bottles rolled and bounced against my legs and feet, spewing liquid on the hem of my best jeans and drenching my sandaled toes.
“No cops around,” he coughed, spitting fluid. He wiped his face with his hand. “Not worried anyway.”
“Well, I’m worried.” Worried for my safety, my self-preservation, the lives of my children if I died. Mundane, everyday thoughts.
I wasn’t a pool player, so I was more than happy to let him find another opponent. The pool game dragged for hours it seemed. He drank like a fish, burping and laughing at his own coarse humor.
I wanted to kill my co-worker. How dare she put me in this situation!
Finally. “I need to get home,” I said. “My sister’s babysitting and I promised her I wouldn’t stay late.”
‘No problem.” His drunken eyes leered at me. “I’m ready to go myself.”
Crap! “No. No,” I said. “You’re having a good time and I don’t want to ruin it for you. I’ll call a cab.” And save myself some grief.
He stroked my arm. I thought I’d puke.
“I’ll take you home, baby,” he whispered. “We still have some talking to do.”
Omigawd!
He was insistent and I was still too stupid and scared to stand up for myself. I followed him out the door, my heart thumping in my chest. Did I dare get in the car again?
He drove like a maniac, skidding to a stop, punching the gas and zipping through traffic. I prayed the whole way home.
The car swerved, jumped the sidewalk and stopped. Panicked, I threw myself out the door.
“Thanks,” I yelled over my shoulder, not forgetting my manners.
I ran up the steps, fumbling for the keys. He was right behind me.
“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” His hand stroked my butt cheek.
“Uh. I don’t kiss on the first date.” I wiggled the door handle
“Aw, come on, baby. I deserve a little kiss.”
I was going to faint. I knew I was—but if I fainted, I’d be fair game. What to do?
The door opened. My sister’s sleepy face peered out. She looked at me and then at him, realization dawned in her expression. The door opened wider.
I slipped through. She slammed the door in his face.
Blind Date No. 3 – Definitely--No.
Blind Date No. 4: “You have to meet my uncle. He has his own business. He’s rich.”
Rich was good!
First impressions were not bad. He took me to a nice place for dinner and we were seated. From earlier experiences, I was ready to pay my own way and I made sure he knew it.
“It’s a date,” he objected, smiling. “Later down the road, if you want, you can treat once in awhile.”
Okay, he was looking better!
“I live in a singles only apartment complex down by Julia Davis Park.”
“Oh. How…interesting.” Singles apartment?
“Yeah,” be continue
d. “We have a big hot tub and we all like to get naked and jump in.”“Oh,” I fiddled with my fork. “Sounds. . .” Creepy—yeah, creepy. That’s the word I’m looking for.
The food arrived.
“Maybe you’d like to come over sometime.” He started eating. “Afterwards, me and a few of the girls like to play.”
“Play?” I asked, not really wanting to know what he meant.
“Yeah. I like threesomes, with me in the middle. A human sandwich,” he laughed.
Omigawd! Not again! Blind Date No. 4 – Hell No!
My search for the perfect soulmate suffered some horrendous setbacks. But I wasn't ready to give up yet.
13 comments:
LMBO!! My DH has an Uncle "Elvis". Loving the series of blogs.
Patsy, Is this true? OMG I hope not. I can't help but laugh, but I don't want to laugh at your bad luck.
Please tell it's not.
Too funny! If you don't write comedy, you should!
Ladies, the sad truth is all these stories are true, beginning with Bachelor No. 1. These blind dates did happen and so many more. I plan on doing, one specifically dealing with the "dating service" a few of my friends and I joined in desperation. They are even funnier than the blind dates. Autumn, please do laugh, I look back and laugh myself.
OMG! What a horrible, sad story. I guess it's true all the good ones are gay or taken! My advice (if you're still looking) is STOP! It'll happen on its own when you least expect it.
Not to worry, the very last entry in my series will be about my husband of 20 years and the night we met. I'm sitting here giggling about it already - it was a "magical" night.
Patsy, this is so hilarious, but I do feel for you. Been on a few blind dates myself that didn't work out, but none compare to what you've been through.
On a positive note, I met my husband on a blind date that my girlfriend really had to talk me into. But this one turned out perfect. We've been happily married for 29 years. So, don't ever give up. The next blind date might be the one.
These stories are just hilarious and can't believe you kept trying! I would have quit after No. 2, I think! Makes me grateful you aren't dating anymore. :-)
Yeah, I think my husband is glad I'm not dating anymore too. Although, I've seen a few guys that . . . . .
Patsy
Your blind dates are hilarious. Unbelievable. You were way too nice to those loses. You need to put some of these stories in a book. Have your heroine go on these dates.
Patsy
Your blind dates are hilarious. Unbelievable. You were way too nice to those loses. You need to put some of these stories in a book. Have your heroine go on these dates.
I have been considering it, Carolyn. After I am finished with the blog, might have to go through and make a story out of them. LOL.
Wow! I mean, again, wow, Patsy. That's something! Entertaining. Goodness gracious, keep writing. These are amazing stories. -Laura
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