what you talkin’ bout Willis…

I must warn you this is long…

 

I decided to go out on a blind date. A kind hearted friend of mine who is concerned about me finding a potential husband felt it necessary to intervene due to my failed attempts to find someone on my own. It might be an interesting experiment to involve other people in the ridiculousness that I have found dating in the A. Don’t get me wrong it is fun, exciting and entertaining, but since I am not doing a good job of picking the winners I felt it might be helpful to involve others.

 

I agreed to meet the blind date for drinks before going to a sporting event. I am not into sports at all. I take that back I will go to a game to eat funnel cakes or go to a championship game party to eat cheese dip. Other than that I pretty much avoid sports. I texted, the devil, my friend the day of regarding the date specifics. She wouldn’t really tell me anything other than his name, a few physical characteristics so that I could identify him and where we were to meet. I arrived at the designated spot a little early and sat down at the bar. I was there for about twenty five minutes when I became a little concerned, the blind date hadn’t showed. I thought to myself am I being stood up. Then my phone buzzed. Luckily, I went to the wrong restaurant, by no fault of mine there was some confusion over the name of the place. Relieved, I texted her that I was leaving and on my way to the correct place which turned out to be a sports bar.

When I arrived at the bar I went inside and texted my friend that I was at the right place. I walked through the place looking from face to face for someone who fit the general description of my blind date. I went back to the  front of the place and scanned the room. A group of men standing nearby asked me if HE was late. I chuckled and told them I wasn’t sure yet. I looked at my phone and I had another text, this one said that he was there and looking for me. There was a man standing off to the right of me who looked like he fit the description, I looked at him then looked back off into the crowd. I thought to myself is that him. I figured it probably was my blind date, so I looked back and said “Are you _____?” He responded yes. I looked at him most likely with a blank look on my face, since I was literally thinking what was my friend thinking, but then I smiled and held my hand out. He was bald, about medium height, with an athletic build and a light beard or maybe it was a five o’clock shadow. He wore a leather motorcycle jacket and had a bandana tied to his head. His voice was raspy like he drank 40’s and smoked a pack of cigarettes every day. My biggest issue was the tooth pick hanging out of his mouth. Damn P. Diddy for popularizing the use of the after dinner food particle dislodger as a fashionable mouth accessory. Guys it is not sexy to keep a tooth pick in your mouth. If you have to use it, do so then discard it.

After I quickly sized him up I told him how I thought it was hilarious that I had gone to the wrong restaurant. He said it was no problem and that he was just happy I got there. He told me to follow him and we went upstairs to find a seat. When we sat down we played 21 questions. We started off with where are you from. We are both originally from the same place, but he went to some random highschool in the city. I thought this was strange because I was sure my friend said they went to the same school. I glossed over this and asked him how old he was. He seemed a little older than what I expected and what she texted me, but I thought well maybe she told me that just to get me out and or she hit the wrong numbers. I was under the impression that we were going to the game so I asked if we should get going since we got started a little late. He said the game was in the third quarter and by the time we got there the game would be over. Then he asked if I wanted to leave and go somewhere else. I declined and told him I knew he wanted to see the game and it was fine if we stayed because I liked the bar’s sweet potato fries. Next I asked him what he did. He said he was a ____. I was instantly intrigued because I had never met a ____ and I had tons of questions to ask him. Despite my curiosity the snob in me reared its ugly head and I thought oh my, did my friend really think I would be interested in him. She knows me and I thought my type so I made a mental note that we would need to discuss later. I am not going to tell you what he did because I don’t think it is necessary to offend anyone who does what he does or knows someone that does. At this point, a waiter comes up to the table we are sitting at and says that we have to move because the space is reserved. He suggests we go to the roof top, and I was like why it’s cold outside. He grins and says that they have heaters, I thought be easy so instead of protesting I follow him up the stairs. I think to myself I just have to make it through one date.

Luckily when we get upstairs a manager is coming out of the door and says they are shutting the roof top down in 10 minutes. I start walking back down the stairs and he is like where are you going. I tell him that I would like to put our names in to get a table and get settled. He says that he wants to smoke a cigarette. I smile and think oh great and he smokes too I have hit the jackpot. I told him that I would wait on him downstairs. I guess he changed his mind because he followed me back downstairs. Once we arrived at the hostess stand he asked me again if I wanted to leave and I replied that since I had gone to the wrong place initially and we weren’t going to the game I wanted to stay put. I wasn’t moving my car I had already spent $20 parking and I wasn’t getting in his car or possibly on his bike.

Of course there was a wait, so I just put my name in for a table. My phone starts to ring and since it’s my friend I answer my cell. My friend screams at me where are you and I’m like I’m sitting here with your friend. She is like cool glad you found him, he called me and screamed on me because he was getting anxious. I look at him and said you screamed at her, then I said to her I will handle him and chat with you later. I then turn to him and asked why he felt it necessary to scream on her. He responded that whatever he said wasn’t that bad. He then asked me what I did for a living. I told him that it wasn’t nearly as interesting as his job and asked him another question about what he did.

I was seated facing him when someone tapped me on my shoulder. I turned around to see a young man standing behind me holding out a cell phone and he said your friend is on the phone and handed me his cell. I look back at my blind date then back to the young man and see my friend’s name in the phone he is handing to me so of course I take the phone and said Hello. My friend is yelling at me and said you are talking to the wrong guy. I respond What!?!?!? She then screams at me again you are talking to the wrong guy!!! WTF! I look back at my blind date and immediately I’m like oh my gosh who are you then I look at the guy who brought the cell phone over. I then tell my girl in my defense I want you to know that they look similar. They did in the sense that they were both bald with a beard, medium height with an athletic build and that would be exactly where the similarities ended. I look at my fake blind date and I’m like you told me your name was ______. Then he is all like oh no my name is Anthony. My mind is reeling, but I’m happy that my friend didn’t really hook me up with this guy and it was all just crazy confusion. I told her I had to go so I could sort it all out.

I tell the fake blind date that he should be shamed lying and tell him that while it was nice to meet him I have to go. I am relieved, but still angry. The horror of this blind date is still haunting as I type. First that this psycho man played along and acted like he was my blind date when he knew good and well he was not. Second that he tried to take me to a second location. Oh the tragedy had I left with him. NOTHING good happens if the perpetrator takes you to a second location.  Third the snobbery that I experienced that I have never formally recognized but now I know I possess. 

If and when you go out on a blind date ask to see a license.

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Put it out, please. This is a smoke free zone…

This is the conclusion to my three part series.

 

I have been experiencing post traumatic second hand-smoke syndrome. I decided that my new crush didn’t smoke. Since I got over myself, I decided to invite him over to spend some quality time. When he arrived he reeked of smoke. Ewww Yuck!!! I had already asked numerous times, so I was not going to go through the charade of asking him if he smoked yet again. However, this sent my brain into a overdrive, so I needed something distracting that didn’t involve talking. We decided to watch a movie.

 

Not a good idea. As I settled in under him, I was overcome by the smell of smoke. I inhaled smoke vapors every time he exhaled. It was so pungent that I had to move to the opposite side of the couch. I didn’t know what to do or say. I mean had we not already talked about this strange smoke smell on numerous occasions? The only thing I could pin him down on was an occasional cigar. So I just prayed and asked that the smoke smell be replaced by something more aromatically pleasing. If a person is smoking an occasional cigar should I be able to smell it weeks later? Damn that’s a strong cigar.

 

As I sat there, each breath made me more distraught and agitated. I wasn’t able to focus on the movie and I kept thinking either this man is lying to me or I am crazy. Both are bad, but I was hoping it wasn’t the latter. I couldn’t hold it in. So after the movie I decided to voice my suspicion once again. I didn’t know how to broach the subject, so I just blurted out,

“You smell like smoke! I keep smelling smoke and it’s driving me insane! I really think I’m losing it. Are you lying to me? Please tell me why I smell smoke.” I suddenly felt all hot and I thought I was going to cry.

He just stared, then he took of his glasses and spoke. “Well I have a confession. I DO smoke, but I’m trying to quit.” Then he kind of smirked, or it was like a coy smile.

 

The horror, the tragedy, the woe, the grief. I don’t believe I was actually prepared for the truth, my worst fears were literally being spoken before my very ears. What was worse was that he said it like it was a joke, something funny we could both chuckle at.

 

Uhm No! You make me think I need to go see a therapist and you think we are about to laugh about it. I was relieved to say the very least. No couches for me, at least no time soon. I was hurt that he had lied to me because where is the point in lying in the beginning. The hurt quickly turned to irritation. I was all excited about the possibilities of having someone in my life, and now I had to deal with the fact that he was dishonest with me. What else has he lied about, fudged the truth on, embellished. I would have much rather dealt with him smoking. We would have worked through that easily. Lying is a nasty habit, that doesn’t go away with 12 step programs. That’s a character flaw, it’s exhibited everywhere, but to varying degrees. You have to decide what degree you are best suited to handle. I know what I can handle. I can only take “of course I love all your friends and family they are the best and your farting aunt, we all have our ticks that just makes her more endearing.”  Little white lies is all I can do. So while he is all grins and little boy charm, you know the grin, the one that relays I know I got caught and I know I’m wrong but please forgive me because its not like I did anything too bad. I’m just quiet.

 

He actually proceeded to tell me it wasn’t a big deal and we could work through it. He wanted to quit, had been trying to quit, and didn’t think something this minor should impact us. He explained that he was hesitant to tell me he smoked after I initially asked, but had been dishonest when I first asked because he wasn’t sure how he felt about me so he didn’t feel compelled to tell the truth. He felt by admitting to the cigars he was fessing up. It all sounded so sincere, but I couldn’t help but to remember all of my anguish over the origin of the smoke smell. This made me chuckle, but he mis-interpreted my chuckle and obviously thought I was cool. So he said,

“I’m so glad we are good on this, sometimes women have a way of blowing things out of proportion. That’s why I like you. You are always so cool about stuff.” And then he had the nerve to start chuckling himself.

Since he had no clue why I was chuckling, this instantly made me even more irritated. If I was going to forgive him, this instantly disappeared after his first chuckle. I suddenly didn’t feel so smitten, the butterflies flittered one last time and then died a painful death in my stomach acid, I didn’t want to giggle I just wanted to grumble, my heart returned to its normal pace, my sigh became a yawn, the excitement turned to exhaustion, he no longer sparkled and glistened he actually looked dull and a little greasy in spots. It was starling to see him in this light. Who was this in my house? I had no clue.

 

What happens to a dream of a man deferred? Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?

Yes, it shrivels into something unrecognizable.

 

Thank you Langston Hughes!