the worst blind date, ever.

jac and i are at it again. you should be a little excited. see, what happens when we chit-chat, is we brainstorm, and sometimes we achieve brilliance. pretty sure that’s what’s happening here. one of our last conversations seemed to theme around everyone in blog-land either being engaged, married, or married with children. we basically realized the only single blogs we read were each others. sad? nah. depressing? sometimes. but, that means we have something to offer that a lot of you don’t — we can dish about the highs and lows of dating — because we’re right in the middle of it. and this shiz is funny. it’s stuff you can’t make up. and since we’re both blonde…we aptly are calling this little ditty the blonde diaries.

my hope? you’ll laugh, smile, maybe feel bad for us at some point, grimace, say “shut the front door, this can’t be real life,” and maybe sigh a time or two. the bottom line is, the single life is hysterical at times, lonely at others, but it’s real, and it’s us, and you’re going to love it!

jac’s first entry is a cliffhanger. don’t hold me accountable. but definitely read it. she writes likes a novel, and is uber descriptive.

now, let you tell you about the worst blind date, ever.

habitually, i’m anti blind date. it never works out. and it’s almost always super awkward. i was 2 years out of college and working at the bank. i went to the coffee shop downtown 2-3 times a week for the yummiest drink in the whole wide world. i’d known the owner for years from going into the shop with mom to get frozen coffees {our weakness}. the owner, we’ll call her P {to protect the innocent}, was a super sweet lady and she began dropped hints about her son, and how we were both single and should meet. i finally caved and gave her my number.

i shouldn’t have. rule number 1: never go out with a guy whose mom is the one doing all the week. mom is clearly trying to hook son up for a reason. my guess? he couldn’t get a girl himself. {told ya this was going to be real}

after a few phone calls and maybe a text or two, we decided to meet at easton. dude decided we’d meet at california pizza kitchen for a bite to eat then head to funny bone to see a show. sounds good so far, yeah? keep reading.

i honestly don’t remember how we figured we’d find each other since we’d never met or seen pictures of the other person. but somehow we did. maybe i was already at the table. or maybe he was. who knows. but all i remember thinking when i saw him was holy shiz i’m on a date with the velveteen rabbit and he has the face of peter dinklage {the angry lil midget writer in elf!}. it took an internal pep talk to get me to actually sit down. my first thought was where’s the closest exit and how can i bolt!?

he was clearly shorter than me. he was varying shades of brown. his khakis had pleats ironed into them {by mom?!}, he was rocking shiny penny loafers. he had a goatee. there was all kinds of product in his hair. his shirt of choice was crushed brown velour. and that’s why he got nicknamed the velveteen rabbit. poignant, no?

being the nice girl i am, i keep conversation going, while screaming on the inside. we order food, his comes, he eats. meanwhile, i wait. the waitress checks to see how we’re doing and i ask about my pizza. her face was priceless as she realized she didn’t put my order in. i asked how long it would take and the answer wasn’t what i hoped. it was going to be a while. any nice guy who had a hope and a prayer for a second date would’ve said it wasn’t a big deal and we could wait. not this schmuck {i don’t even remember his name}. he said — no lie — we don’t have time, that we’ll miss the show at the funny bone. no joke. i didn’t get to eat. he finished his spicy arizona rolls or whatever those things are called while i kept drinking my water with steam billowing from my ears.

he paid the bill for his {not our!} dinner, and we left. i kept my distance to say the least. we got our tickets and were seated at the funny bone and i immediately ordered beer. it was going to be necessary if i was going to make it through two more hours with awful blind date boy. i didn’t have much more to say to him. and thank goodness the show started quickly. when it was over, i was out of there faster than you can say blind date gone bad. i told him i didn’t need him to walk me to my car, i was fine, but he insisted. {i suppose i should give him half a point for being a gentleman} so we walked in awkward silence to my car, and it was clear he was at least going to come in for a hug. don’t worry. he got blocked. i legit turned my body sideways, patted him on the shoulder, said thanks for the show, see ya later and got in my car. chances are he didn’t see that coming.

while he was walking back inside the mall, i called my friend jake, who was still at otterbein, told him to get a beer ready, and i went straight for his house. there was no way i could drive home as rattled as i was. i needed to vent, real quick, before i exploded.

worst. blind. date. ever. needless to say the coffee shop was a bit awkward for a while, and i was pretty glad when i saw the for sale sign and knew i wouldn’t have to face that embarrassment ever again. i can’t remember the guy’s name, where he worked, or what he was interested in, but i will never forget the awful experience, and how funny it is now.

have you ever gone on a blind date? was it good? bad? is there a story you’re dying to tell me so i know i’m not alone? i’d love to hear your story – or if you fell out of your chair laughing when you read this awesome experience!

toodles, lovellies. i’ve got a patio that’s in serious need of weed removel. that’s where you’ll find me today, or in the basement doing laundry. where’s my maid!?

2 thoughts on “the worst blind date, ever.

  1. That hurts me! I am feeling for this poor girl! A friend of mine actually had a book published about all of her dating mishaps. It’s called ‘Punked by Prince Charming.’ Super funny and a great quick read!

  2. Pingback: 18 things i’m looking for {in a guy} « lovellie commentary.

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