So for some reason my friends in “relationships” think I need to be more social. Enter: The Blind Date.
“Hey girl. I have this awesome friend I think you might like. I already gave him your picture, and he thinks you’re hot!” My overzealous friend tells me as we chat over a velvety smooth coffee.
“I’m not sure. I’m not really looking for anyone right now. I’m focusing on my career.” I take a careful sip to wash down the bitterness rising like a volcano ready to erupt.
Who does she think she is giving my picture to some random guy? What makes her think I need her help finding a date?
My mental tirade simmered down with her next words.
“I know, but you’re turning into a hermit. I’m worried.” Her eyes held a secret, but her words touched my heart.
“Well, what does he look like?” Curiosity has always been my weakness.
She flips open her phone and shows me a picture of a guy with long red hair, a pudgy round face, and giving me the one eyebrow cocked look. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he wasn’t ugly either. I try to give people a fair shot, so I agree to meet him. I’ll refer to him as Benji.
I’m a cautious person and refused to let Benji know where I live, so we met for coffee.
My heart is palpitating as I check my makeup in the little rearview mirror. Not that I care or anything…
Satisfied, I get out from the car and smooth my clothes. I chose a pair of nice dark blue jeans and a black blouse that reached my neck. Needless to say, I looked snazzy.
As I walk into the coffee shop, I scan the crowd for Benji. Decadent coffee smells assault my senses, and I toy with the idea of ditching the date for a Venti White Chocolate Mocha!
Before I can run back to my car, a hand wave catches my attention. I turn to see a balding redhead in what can only be described as high school rocker. He had on his black baggy jeans with a chained wallet, and a black metal band tee shirt (sleeveless) with a black denim vest over it.
“I’m not sure. I’m not really looking for anyone right now. I’m focusing on my career.” I take a careful sip to wash down the bitterness rising like a volcano ready to erupt.
Who does she think she is giving my picture to some random guy? What makes her think I need her help finding a date?
My mental tirade simmered down with her next words.
“I know, but you’re turning into a hermit. I’m worried.” Her eyes held a secret, but her words touched my heart.
“Well, what does he look like?” Curiosity has always been my weakness.
She flips open her phone and shows me a picture of a guy with long red hair, a pudgy round face, and giving me the one eyebrow cocked look. He wasn’t gorgeous, but he wasn’t ugly either. I try to give people a fair shot, so I agree to meet him. I’ll refer to him as Benji.
I’m a cautious person and refused to let Benji know where I live, so we met for coffee.
My heart is palpitating as I check my makeup in the little rearview mirror. Not that I care or anything…
Satisfied, I get out from the car and smooth my clothes. I chose a pair of nice dark blue jeans and a black blouse that reached my neck. Needless to say, I looked snazzy.
As I walk into the coffee shop, I scan the crowd for Benji. Decadent coffee smells assault my senses, and I toy with the idea of ditching the date for a Venti White Chocolate Mocha!
Before I can run back to my car, a hand wave catches my attention. I turn to see a balding redhead in what can only be described as high school rocker. He had on his black baggy jeans with a chained wallet, and a black metal band tee shirt (sleeveless) with a black denim vest over it.
Should’ve ditched for the coffee. Why can’t people at least look like their picture.
Feeling obligated, I trudge over to his table and make an internal vow to only stay an hour. Why waste more of my precious writing time?
Not only was this guy re-living his high school glory days, he also professed to be in touch with his spirituality. He said he could meditate and “connect” with people he didn’t know to tell how they were feeling (like headaches, knee pain, etc.).
If that weren’t enough, he also believes in past lives and magic. This doesn’t line up with my Christian faith. The night ended awkwardly.
“Thanks for the coffee.” I inched toward the exit.
“I had a great time. You’re amazing. I could totally see us together. I’d treat you right, and you’d be my princess.”
Red alert! Red alert! We have a desperate man on our hands!
“Well, that’s nice. I’m really focusing on my career right now and have no time for a relationship. Thanks again.” I call over my shoulder as I scurry from the reach of a desperate man and into the safety of my car.
Thinking I’m home free, I relax on the drive home until my phone goes off. I wait until I’m parked to check the text.
Benji: Had a great time. Can’t wait to see you again.
My nosey, good-for-nothing, hair-brained friend gave that dude my number!
Someday I will get her back!
Feeling obligated, I trudge over to his table and make an internal vow to only stay an hour. Why waste more of my precious writing time?
Not only was this guy re-living his high school glory days, he also professed to be in touch with his spirituality. He said he could meditate and “connect” with people he didn’t know to tell how they were feeling (like headaches, knee pain, etc.).
If that weren’t enough, he also believes in past lives and magic. This doesn’t line up with my Christian faith. The night ended awkwardly.
“Thanks for the coffee.” I inched toward the exit.
“I had a great time. You’re amazing. I could totally see us together. I’d treat you right, and you’d be my princess.”
Red alert! Red alert! We have a desperate man on our hands!
“Well, that’s nice. I’m really focusing on my career right now and have no time for a relationship. Thanks again.” I call over my shoulder as I scurry from the reach of a desperate man and into the safety of my car.
Thinking I’m home free, I relax on the drive home until my phone goes off. I wait until I’m parked to check the text.
Benji: Had a great time. Can’t wait to see you again.
My nosey, good-for-nothing, hair-brained friend gave that dude my number!
Someday I will get her back!