Blind Dates - Singles' Public Enemy #1

Blind Dates – The Single Persons’ Public Enemy #1

         For those of us who are single, or ever were single, our worst enemy has not been married people, like urban legend suggests, but blind dates. Almost all of us have been on at least one, and if you’re one of the lucky ones who have never had to suffer the horrors of being on a blind date, then I don’t know whether to envy you or hate you.
         Other urban legends state that some blind dates go incredibly well. These stories tell us of two strangers who are set up by a common person or people. These strangers have a great first date and thus begin a series of firsts: first kiss, first time having sex, first time sleeping over at the other’s place, among many others. Everything is new and special, and they become one of the shiny, happy people. I, however, have never had the luxury. Each time I have been set up on a blind date, I lost my will to live after meeting them.
         A blind date is basically an interview with drinks, and I can’t seem to want to drink enough. I have found myself hoping to spontaneously combust in an effort to get out of it. If I have a meal on the date, I end up wanting to choke on my pork chop and conveniently die. Even an alien abduction would be a blessing. Besides, I could use the anal probe.
         Some of the worst blind dates I have been on involved the guy resembling an animal. I have always believed in evolution, but from the looks of these guys, I wonder if there aren’t still people out there who have a ways to go. I have been set up with a primate, a ferret, and a guy who looked - and sounded - like a rhino in heat. Because I worry I may run into them, I now avoid these sections of the zoo.
         And what about the people who set us up on these nightmares? Our relatives, co-workers, and so-called friends who say “Oh, I should have you meet my other friend. I think you two would be perfect for each other.” In what alternate universe? I question these people when they try to set me up with somebody. Do they really know me? Are they tired of seeing me single and thus set me up with the next best thing to a human? Do they secretly hate me? I have grown weary and wary of people who try to play matchmaker. I would rather get the bubonic plague than be set up ever again. It would be less painful.
         Of course, there’s the always-popular meeting someone online. I cannot blame anyone else for this, but myself. Perhaps I should screen them better or send out a questionnaire for them to fill out, so I don’t feel so bad about myself when I agree to meet them. From here I have met a man that looked, sounded, and acted like one of my (at the time, recent) exes - sans alcoholism, Mickey Rooney the later years, with big, thick glasses, and a man whose entire apartment was piled so full of junk, that he only had a small pathway from the front door to the bedroom and his bed, and the bathroom. The bathroom was the only room that did not have above-waist clutter in it.
         But still more urban legends tell us of people who have met on the Internet and found true love. They find their prince or princess whom they have been waiting for all their lives to sweep them off their feet. They may be living many states from each other, or just a few houses away, but when they finally meet, they get their happily ever after. The only things I have ever gotten from meeting someone online were nausea and indigestion, and it wasn’t from the meal.
         If these are the only kind of men out there for me, then I quit. I’ll turn my dick over to a lesbian who wants it, scratch out the words “All Access” tattooed across my ass, replace them with the words “Exit Only”, and go be a nun. Why not? I already wear a lot of black and am already a Mary.
         I know it is not just me, as I have heard the horrible tales of blind dates from many others. These tales are the truth, but is there any hope to come from them? Are we destined to spend our lives kissing a lot of bad frogs and ending up with extremely chapped lips before our prince or princess comes to our rescue? Or, do we have to have these urban legends, these fairy tales, to keep up our hope of someday getting together with Mr. or Ms. Right?