A Bad, Bad Blind Date

In honor of Valentine's Day, I've decided to share with you the absolute worst blind date of my life. It was so long ago that I am not sure I'll be able to remember the details.  I do remember, though, that I swore off blind dates after that one.

One of my dear friends thought I might be a good match for her hubby's best friend.  We'll call him Doofy (the best friend, not her hubby).  I agreed to meet him at his home where we would then go out to dinner.

I got to Doofy's house after work, about 4:30-ish.  I had brought a bottle of wine.  He grinned and said, "Oh, the good stuff." Then he put it in his refrigerator, and sat down to finish the beer he was in the middle of drinking. No, he did not offer me a drink of anything.  He asked if I wanted to go to a nearby steak house and told me we'd have to make a couple stops before we got there.  I knew I was in trouble, but I said that was fine with me. I ignored the reverberating "Danger, Will Robinson" that filled my head.

The first stop was at the local train station where he wanted to greet his incoming grandparents.  Not pick them up, his cousin was there to do that. Just greet them, just say hello.  His grandparents absolutely loved him and fawned all over him, but his granny did not like me. Not one bit. He introduced me as his girlfriend, and Bubbe's nose wrinkled liked she was smelling a fart.  I guess she thought I couldn't hear her ask her little Doofala what he saw in me.  The grandfather assured her I must be very nice. The screaming inside my head got louder.

Next, he needed to stop at a friend's house.  He and his friend cracked open a few beers, and I was left alone in the living room with a wife who wanted to do anything but entertain me.  I fielded such probing questions as "How long have you known Doofy?"  with answers that totally befuddled her. When she ran out of interview questions, I suggested I find Doofy so we could get off to dinner.  I found him in the basement admiring the friend's classic car.  He sucked down the dregs of the beer and I insisted we get moving.

In the car he told me he wanted to make one more stop.  He needed to go to his OA meeting (Overeaters Anonymous) so he could be prepared to not overeat at the steak house.  Finally, I pulled myself out of my shocked state and told him we could go to dinner now or he could take me back to my car.  We went to dinner.  During dinner, he ordered a carafe of wine. I had one drink.  He finished the carafe, and ordered a second.  He lectured me on how fattening and unhealthy my dinner was (a steak, baked potato, and salad from the salad bar).  He had a salad on a dinner plate that was drenched in blue cheese dressing, sunflower seeds, eggs, bacon, and macaroni salad.  His "healthy" salad had twice the calories of my dinner. He also ordered a steak dinner because he needed some protein to go with his salad.  I hoped all that food was soaking up the alcohol because I knew that I couldn't drive a stick shift, and I wanted nothing more than to get home alive.

Back at his house, I asked to be directed to the bathroom before I made my way home.  When I came out of the bathroom, the house was completely dark! Doofy had turned off every light in the house except a tiny lamp in his bedroom.  I peeked in and he was sprawled across the bed, shoes and shirt off, and posed as a gift to me.  He asked for a goodbye kiss.  I mumbled that I had to get home because I needed to get up early for work.  I nearly stumbled trying to find the staircase in the dark.

I was home by 11:30, but it took me forever to fall asleep that night.  When my girlfriend asked me how the date went, I told her that he didn't seem like he was ready to date anyone at the moment.  She said he was anxious to go out with me again because we had to end our date abruptly due to me needing to get up early the next day. Yes, readers, Doofy really said that to her.

I'm sure Bubbe was glad we never saw each other again.