Horrible Valentines

Blind Date

Dylan Sonderman

I was 21 years old and had never went on a blind date before. A college classmate I barely knew told me that her best friend, who I’ll call B on the off-chance she may see this, and I had “similar temperaments.” She thought we would hit it off perfectly.  I should have known, should have realized, what a horrible and ill-conceived idea this was. But I didn’t.

At the time, I was single. In my naïve little mind, the worst that could happen was I’d end up not dating her, which I already wasn’t. I thought I had nothing to lose. Oh, how wrong I was…

Oh, sure, at first the idea sounded appealing enough. Our mutual connection, who I will call E, said that B and I both had the same major, that we both were funny… oh wait, yeah, that was really about all she had. I’m not one to judge someone else’s inability to find a date, but if she was desperate enough to turn to me, who E had spoken with all of three times for about five minutes each time… well, it wasn’t a good sign.

So, E gave me B’s number. We began texting and there seemed to be the illusion of the hint of some chemistry. We agreed to get coffee on campus together, which, by the way, I thought was a kind of lame and generic idea for a date.

But we met up. Did she seem nice? Sure. She was well-dressed and had a nice smile…and I was in no way attracted to her. We exchange forced greetings, but she didn't seem enthusiastic either. I thought maybe we could bond over that.

We sit down with our overpriced drinks, which I paid for, since she had “forgotten her wallet” and begin talking. The conversation was dull and dead. Nothing to say. Silence reigned.

Then, a ray of hope appeared: she began talking about a meeting she had to leave for in a few minutes. Apparently, B was president of an organization related to my major. Not only was this going to prematurely end the date, but it should have been a cool talking point, right?

Wrong! Not for me. I royally blow the opportunity to find common ground by sarcastically asking for her autograph, downplaying her status in the role entirely. Yep. It was an utterly rude thing to say, pretty out of character for me. I don’t know to this day why I said it. Nerves? I was hopelessly inept at pseudo-romantic banter. Perhaps I was subconsciously seeking an end to the mire of crap that was two strangers who had absolutely no interest in each other.

Either way, after that, things were even more strained. I could tell the date had just died and we both were just looking for a polite excuse to get out of there. After ten more agonizing minutes of pretending we cared what the other planned to do with their future, she claimed the group had just texted her and moved the meeting time up by an hour. What a coincidence! We bid farewell, both gratefully. That could have been the end of it.

But was it? Of course not! I had to see her all around the department and the campus. Suddenly, this person I never knew existed appeared in every class… I practically became a social recluse to avoid her, and the memory of my stupid, stupid line. “Can I have your autograph? Huh-huh.”

Basically, it sucked. Maybe it was more me than the fact that it was a blind date. I don’t know, because I think I’d rather get a full-time job as a greeter at Walmart than go on another blind date.