Hi Folks, So, my good friends who are oh so helpful and claim to know me oh so well, decided to set me up with this guy who was “just perfect for me”. Those four words always fill me with dread, fear and a sense of foreboding. See this is not the first time I have trusted these dear friends to match me up with someone stellar. (Stellar being their words and not mine). No, I really should have known that this was going to be a certified 4 alarm disaster when I was instructed to pick up said date at his Mom’s place. Firstly there are 2 things sadly lacking here, his own place and a ride. However, who am I to judge and maybe he is a hipster with a bicycle and just maybe nice quads to match. Anyway, I told my “good friends” that I trusted them ( not sure why) and the date was set.
I agonized over what to wear and hair and makeup and all those things we girls do to prep for a first date. I really should not have worried because when I rang the door bell of Mom’s place, the guy who answered the door wore a God-awful golf shirt, pleated shorts and a baseball cap. His entire ensemble said “I am ready for golf”. I know that I said earlier that I didn’t want to judge but please who wears golfing attire on a date and again, who wears golfing attire?
When we got in the car the very first thing he did before even putting the seat belt on was change my radio station. Really who does this? But before I could do anything he had turned up the volume on some hideous heavy metal music and asked me if I cared if he smoked? Cared? I was outraged. I do not smoke, none of my friends smoke and I sure as hell don’t want some wannabe golfer smoking in my car. “Sorry I have allergies” I blurted out to which he replied “Its Ok, I’ll blow the smoke out the window.” The nerve! Why I let this continue I have no real clue but continue it did.
He asked if we could drop by his buddy’s place to pick up something and this something just happened to be his buddy (who also appeared to be ready for golf) and his girlfriend. So now I was the designated driver for this intimate double hell date. I was fuming by this time but I continued. The three of them decided that we should go to this chicken wing joint over near Eddie’s place (whoever Eddie was) and after much confusion with directions and twenty minutes of driving we ended at “Wing a Ding Dong Sports Bar and Grill”. They jumped out of the car to grab a table and I went to find a parking spot. When I saw they were inside I sped out of the lot and drove to my friend’s house.
Over a bottle of Merlot I told them to “never set me up again”.