My First Blind Date

Jul 31, 2015 by

07.31.2015 - My First Blind Date

 
          “I told him, ‘You will dress nicely and you will take her out for dinner and you will buy her flowers!’” my pole friend Kylie relayed her conversation with the guy she was setting me up with.

          “Aw!” I laughed. “No guy has ever bought me flowers,” I said with my hand pressed to my heart, more touched by the thought of flowers than I expected myself to be.

          To be honest, I’ve never cared for flowers, so I didn’t know how good they’d make me feel before they were even in my hand. Just the idea that a guy – whose name I didn’t even know yet, by the way – would exert that kind of effort for me made me feel valued. I thought it nice that he was willing to go along with the instructions laid out for him by Kylie, who planned the whole date. I’ve never had anyone put so much effort into my dating life, myself included.

          “Oh, he will be buying you flowers!” she assured. “Act surprised.”

          “Okay,” I giggled.

          “I’m probably going to dress him too,” she added.

          It was the perfect way for me to re-enter the dating world. I didn’t have to do a thing: no sifting through online profiles, no texting, no asking the guy out. I just had to show up to a date. Actually, I didn’t even have to do that. He picked me up.

          When Kylie approached me last week about wanting to set me up, my answer was an immediate yes.

          “Okay! Amazing!” she replied. “I’m not sure how this actually works. Since I have no one to double-date with you, I can’t do it that way. Did you want to see a pic first or should I give him your number so you can chat or should I just set up a date?”

          “Let me go in blind,” I told her. “I’m always down for meeting new people, so even if I’m not attracted, he’ll be a new friend!”

          I’m a terrible texter. I knew he and I would have a much better chance of getting to know each other in person.

          It would be my first blind date. I didn’t even know the guy’s name until he texted me last night to tell me that he was on his way. He knocked on the door and everything. Not expecting that, I bolted down the stairs to answer before anyone else could, yelling to my family, “Don’t answer that! I got it! I think it’s for me!” (The Maria/Theresa thing is just too much for a first date. I feared my mom might say something rude and possibly close the door in the poor guy’s face if she answered and he asked for Maria. She really hates my first name. Yeah, the one she gave me. Don’t get me started.) I closed the door behind me faster than I opened it.

          Even though Kylie had told me it was coming, I was genuinely surprised to see the rose in his hand. I had doubted I was actually going to get one. I liked it not because it was a flower. Like I said, I’ve never cared for flowers. I’ve never cared for guys to pick me up or to buy me things or to do whatever else guys are expected to do on dates. I liked the rose because of its implications. It demonstrated effort; and, because he hadn’t met me before, it showed his level of respect for people in general. That’s the rose: effort and respect. It can come in a variety of forms, such as good communication, initiative, and follow-through. However that rose is presented doesn’t matter. It just has to be there.

 

***

 

          “Omg,” one of my girlfriends texted me almost immediately after I posted my rose on Instagram. “I’m with a friend, and I just realized you guys would be great for each other. #blinddate”

          “Lmao! #setmeup”

 
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