Dating Woes

Blind dating can be a perilous adventure. In the words of Forest Gump, which I've changed a little, "It can be like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're going to get."

Imagine blind dating as a box of chocolates that’s missing that paper that shows you the shape and ingredients' of each piece. Dump them all in a bowl, then close your eyes, fish one out and pop it in your mouth.

If you're lucky, you get the one that awakens your senses and causes your taste buds to rise, not unlike the anticipation of sexual pleasure.

If you’re unlucky, maybe you get the one that's all sweet and beautiful on the outside, but as you get past that veneer and close to the heart of its makeup, it becomes something else entirely.

I’ve had my fair share of the unlucky variety, which has tainted my outlook on the whole blind dating thing.

Double Date Fiasco

I remember one date in particular that fits into both the lucky and unlucky categories.

I would call it the double date fiasco, and as I look back on it now, I'm glad it turned out the way it did.

Two close friends of mine, whom I had introduced and were now happily married, asked me to join them on a double date. They’d moved into a new condo several months before and had become friends with a single woman they described as both beautiful and funny.

My friends knew that I valued a good sense of humour and it was high on my list of attractive features. Knowing that I'd had more than one bad experience with blind dating, they suggested a double date at a local comedy club the following weekend. I love to laugh, so I agreed, thinking even if my date and I didn't match as a couple, we could still have a good time.

I arrived at the club a little after my friends and felt a little nervous as I walked in and saw them sitting at a table with a beautiful woman. They were joking and laughing as I approached, which put me at ease. My friends introduced us, and she shook my hand as she made a joke about my late arrival that made us all laugh. I smiled, thankfully, at my friends, thinking this was going to be a good night.

Boy, was I wrong about that!

We were all drinking wine and having a lively, fun-filled discussion about life in general as we waited for the show to start. It didn't take long for me to realize that she would be one of the unlucky chocolates' I spoke about earlier. She was all sweet and beautiful on the outside, but the more she drank, which was a lot, the more her veneer melted away to reveal her true self.

The show was scheduled to last about three hours, but at the rate she drank, I didn't think she would make it past the first act.

Boy, was I wrong about that! Not only did she make it past the first act, she actually left the club with the guy.

My friends said that she hadn't been to a club in a long time, and as she downed several glasses of wine and started ordering shooters, I could see why. Her personality changed drastically as she consumed more and more wine, but when she started doing shooters, it was like pouring gasoline on a fire.

As soon as the guy came on stage, she started doing something that I don't like; she heckled him from the first joke. It became embarrassing as she sat at our table exchanging blows with this guy. I was actually relieved when she grabbed her drink and stumbled to a seat close to the stage.

It turned into something that looked like a mating dance as they exchanged blows while the rest of the club howled with laughter.

My friends and I were shocked when he left the stage and joined her at what was now her table. After a few minutes, he stood and went to the backstage area, and she stumbled back to our table to get her jacket and bag. She bid goodnight to my friends before turning to me and, after a few failed attempts at remembering my name, gave up and walked away to the backstage area.

I look back on it now and laugh, thinking how lucky I was to see her true self before we’d gone any further.

****

I’ve never had a blind date that would fit solely into the lucky category above, which is kind of funny as after I stepped out of that pool, I met my wife and became known as Lucky man.

But before I stepped out and shook myself off, I had a few that definitely fit into the unlucky category and even a few that should have their own category altogether, which I could only describe as the "What the fuck was that" category.

As all of my blind dates were set up by friends and family, I mistakenly thought they all had my best interest at heart. But, as some of you may know, I tend to surround myself with people that make me laugh and laugh with me, but there’s also the other side of humour I wasn’t thinking about; the practical joker side. What I didn't know was a couple of my ex-friends leaned heavily in that direction.

I'm pretty sure that the dates that landed in the bizarre or the WTF realm were attempts at screwing with me. If they were anything other than practical jokes, it meant I was a terrible judge of my friend's intellect.

Kick-boxing man-hater

If the family member that set me up with the kick-boxing man-hater thought we were a good match, I seriously need to rethink my thoughts on the level of this person’s intelligence. Maybe I need to buy a bag of fertilizer and dump it on him as he clearly has the IQ of a tomato.

I must admit that this woman sounded interesting to me as she ran a business while raising two small children on her own. She operated a kickboxing studio that catered to women and taught self-defence. I believe that every woman should be able to defend themselves enough to get out of dangerous situations, so I was intrigued. Her studio was in a high-end strip mall a short drive from my home, so we agreed to meet there, where she would give me a tour before going for coffee.

As my balls were hurting after the tour, we never made it to the coffee shop.

When I arrived, her studio was empty as her classes were finished for the day. She walked me around, explaining what she did and how it fulfilled her. Ten boxing dummies were in a straight line down one side of the room, with a floor-to-ceiling mirror behind them. They looked like men from the hips up, built from formed rubber and stuffed with foam, and had a skin tone colour that looked surprisingly realistic. They were mounted to the floor with a metal post, and all wore a t-shirt with target points marked out on them. It looked like the targets included the kidneys, liver and both sides of the ribs. But the one that concerned me was the one that was at the bottom center with the words “Prime Target” printed above it. It was obvious she considered the family jewels to be the prime target.

Now, as I was the proud owner of a set of family jewels, I started to feel a little nauseous as she proceeded to demonstrate all the different ways to attack that area. She seemed to be enjoying herself a little too much as she used her feet and knees to attack the area with a look of glee on her face. Her strikes were getting stronger and stronger as she started swearing at the dummy each time she hit it. She seemed to forget I was there, and as her anger increased, I could feel my balls retreating and looking for a place to hide.

I don't even think she noticed when I walked out the door and drove away. For all I know, she's probably still there beating the shit out of that thing.

Wolf woman

There was also the time a supposedly good friend set me up with the wolf woman. I call her that because I can't help but think that she must have been raised by wolves. Apparently, my friend didn't know that this woman, for some weird reason, didn't believe in using utensils when eating.

We met at one of my favourite surf and turf restaurants, where I ordered lobster and shrimp, and she ordered a large steak cooked rare. The small talk was going well as we waited for our meal, but I noticed her get kind of nervous whenever someone came close to our table. She would stop talking, and her hackles would rise as her eyes darted around like a small animal. I felt that she didn't like being in a crowded environment and tried to ease her uneasiness by offering to cancel the order. I said that we could just go for a walk if that made her feel more comfortable. She said she didn't know what I was talking about; she felt fine and was looking forward to her steak. She seemed almost angry when she said this, which made me feel uncomfortable and question my friend's taste in women.

Small talk was getting more difficult, so I almost jumped for joy when the waiter appeared with our meals. I was thinking, “thank God, maybe we can just eat our meals in silence, then I could make up some excuse and gently escape from this situation without embarrassing us both.”

Then to my absolute astonishment, she did something I've never seen a person do before or since. As I poured us a glass of wine to make a toast, she pushed her knife and fork aside before picking up the steak in her hands and biting into it. I tried not to laugh at the look on the waiter's face as he stopped by to drop finger bowls on our table.

You know the little bowls with the slice of lemon, the purpose of which is to clean your fingers.

I smiled at the waiter and mouthed the words, "check, please," before he smiled back and nodded his head in the affirmative.

He left to get the check as she dropped her steak on the plate long enough to down her wine and burp before holding out her glass for me to refill. I think I was in shock as I topped up her glass, which she promptly drank half of, before going back to attacking her prey.

She was gnawing on the bone when the waiter returned, so I quickly paid him in cash as I stood to leave. She looked up from her kill as I prepared to leave, apologizing as I put my jacket on, saying I wasn’t feeling good and needed to get home. She stared at me for a few seconds and growled, “yea, whatever,” and went back to digging the marrow from the bone with her teeth.

I apologized to our waiter as I neared the exit. He looked at me with a broad smile on his face and nodded towards our table.

I looked back as I walked out the door and could see her pick up the finger bowl and drink the contents before stuffing the lemon in her mouth, peel and all. I watched her chew that lemon slice and swallow before saying, "what the fuck" as I walked to my car, thinking about the misery I would bring down on my friend.