Never been on a blind date. Well not planned. Woke up the next morning wishing I were blind. Look!!! I answered before reading all other comments. Dicipline is paying off.
I have never been on a blind date.
Big-haired Bitch/Personality Hire
A little while after a particularly horrendous relationship, my friends took it upon themselves to send me on random dates. I won't lie, it was fun for the most part. But I digress.
So this one guy in particular was just overbearing. Annoyingly overbearing. I met him at the restaurant. I went to take my seat, and he was like 'No, you should sit here!' and he pulled out the chair in which he wanted me to sit. I brushed it off because I thought it was some rule of chivalry I'd never heard of...kinda like the guy should walk on the part of the sidewalk nearest to the street. Whatever...I kinda brushed it off.
And then he wanted to order for me (my biggest pet peeve in terms of dating). I settled on one of three menu recommendations from him, as opposed to just flat out letting him order for me. He ordered the same thing. The dish came with papaya salsa, but I substituted mango salsa because I HATE papaya, just the smell of it is enough to make me queasy. I'm not being dramatic. My mouth fills up with saliva like it does right before I puke. I can't even stand the smell of it in shampoo or any other products. Not sure why I react that way...but yeah. Moving on.
We get our food. And he asks me why I wanted mango salsa instead of papaya. So I explained to him that I hate papaya. I didn't wanna go into the details of it at the dinner table, assuming he'd respect the fact that I hate papaya and just let me be content with my mango salsa. Nope.
He proceeds to tell me that I should just try it.
Me: No, I really don't like papaya.
Him: Just give it a chance. It's really subdued in the salsa.
Me: No, really. I'm fine with just the mango salsa.
Him: *pours some of his papaya salsa all over my fucking chicken*
Me: *blank stare*
Him: *big cheesy smile* There...give it a try.
Me: *flags down waitress* Can I get another order of the grilled chicken, please?
Waitress: Is there a problem?
Me: He just poured papaya salsa all over it.
Waitress: I'll be right back, miss.
*Manager comes over*
Me: *slowly dying on the inside*
Manager: Is everything alright? Is there a problem?
Me: Not at all. The chicken is great. My date just poured papaya salsa on it, when I really don't like papaya, which is why I ordered the mango salsa instead. The staff's been great. The food is great. There's no issue other than the papaya salsa that he *points to date* dumped on it.
Manager: *looks at me sympathetically* We'll get you another one right away.
*food arrives*
We eat in silence. He tries to strike up a conversation. I offer curt, one-word responses. I ask for the check...separate checks. My ruined chicken goes on his bill. He walks me to my car. He tells me to call him sometime. I say 'Doubt it.'
The end.
"What is the quality of your intent?" - Thurgood Marshall
WOW!! a load of posts have been removed here..Ive told admin
