BLIND DATE…..from Hell!
Blind Date? Hmmm…well…?? Sometimes in life you have to take a chance, play the odds, roll the dice…so when my girlfriend’s good friend told me that he had an amazzzzzing guy to set me up with – lawyer, 45 ish, successful, smart, and fun – I decided to play the odds and take a chance. In retrospect, I didn’t think to ask for a picture, as I figured a reliable reference was likely enough to ensure that, worst case, I would have an interesting dinner partner for a night, and best case…well, those possibilities were endless.
References aside, it was still a blind date. LAWYER was consistent with an initial text inviting me to call him about setting up a date, which I did, and he was quite pleasant on the phone and told me he would call me in a few days and set something up. Follow up – he was good at that, so two days later when he called me to ask me for dinner on a Friday night, I said yes. He said he wanted to take me to The Ivy, and wondered if I would like it if he picked me up. Okay, side bar moment here …in case you don’t live in LA, The Ivy is one of the best restaurants in town and as it turns out it is located four blocks from my home. So when he offered to pick me up, I reasoned it was okay because if I hated him I could easily flee and walk home. Plus it definitely made him look like a gentleman – a quality I treasure in a man.
Friday night, I was dressed in a classy knee-length Dolce & Gabbana cocktail dress, deciding that I should look elegant for a first date with LAWYER, plus The Ivy merited a nice dress. Waiting for LAWYER I toyed with the idea of having a glass of wine, but decided I wanted to be sharp as I didn’t hail from Harvard as he had and did not want the relaxation effects of the Cabernet to in any way impair my ability to converse with Mr. Ivy League LAWYER.
At 8:05 pm, only five minutes late, my door buzzer rang. You know, I can’t speak for men, but I think most females I know are optimistically hopeful that one of these times the universe is going to get it right and our soul mate will be on the other side of the door. As I opened the door, dressed in my Dolce dress, wearing high black pumps and having spent $40 on a blow out that day, in walked my blind date……LAWYER.
My blind date – LAWYER, was dressed in flip flops, khaki shorts and wearing a Hawaiian shirt. On top of that, unless 65 is the new 45, the ‘45 ISH’ was now a huge exaggeration as he had great mounds of curly-grey-back-hair protruding from behind the collar of his shirt; It was so long I could have braided it into dreadlocks. Of course the exposed area of his chest, where the shirt buttons ended, exposed massive heaps of grey chest hairs popping through. As he strolled around my place, I noticed that not only was there mounds of grey-back and grey-chest hairs, he also had a hunched back. For once in my life I was speechless, stunned – more like I had been shot with a stun gun and immobilized.
I mean….really……really….really….Really…OMG…Really….this was my date for the night? When he commented that I was overdressed, I thought about changing out of my clothes, into my jammies, feigning illness and cancelling the date. But then he went on to say that The Ivy at the Shore was generally more relaxed as Santa Monica was a chiller vibe than Beverly Hills. I wanted to scream ‘okay LAWYER, you said The Ivy not The Ivy at the Shore’, but I was too shocked to do much, and decided that my back-up plan all along was that worst case I would have an interesting dinner with LAWYER. It’s just that I never expected an old-underdressed-Quasimodo to show up at my door – I was gob smacked.
But after all, he did drive all the way to Beverly Hills to get me, and at the end of the day he couldn’t help the hunched back (although never, never ever, should I have been exposed to grey back and chest hairs on the first date – NEVER!) So the nice Canadian girl side of me came out, and off we went. As we drove to the restaurant, him squinting as he drove, I became increasingly concerned about my safety as I realized he was somewhat visually impaired. I was relieved when we landed safely at our destination, wishing I had indulged earlier in a glass of wine because by now I needed two.
Once seated in the charming Ivy at the Shore, slightly overdressed, I perused the menu while at the same time inconspicuously checking out the crowd, praying I didn’t know anyone there. When the waiter arrived, and I had my wine and appetizer on its way, I decided to see what the smart, interesting LAWYER was all about, I mean there had to be something charming inside, right?
I struggled to converse with LAWYER, mainly because he didn’t really have anything to say and never bothered to ask me anything about myself, so I finally asked him what exactly a Criminal Defense LAWYER did and to tell me something about his work. That lead to a long boring diatribe that I truly didn’t try to follow. Instead, I ordered a second glass of wine and picked out EXACTLY what I wanted to eat as an entrée – not even worrying about the price for once because I had to find some restitution to this evening. (I normally try to order moderately, never wanting to be known as a gimme gimme girl)
As we were eating our entrees, and after he had fully explained exactly what it was that a Criminal Defense LAWYER does every day, I asked him about his current case. He went on to tell me that he was representing a father…a father who had come home to find out that his wife had gone mad and killed three of their children, the father arriving just in time to save the youngest from a tragic death.
As I sat there, eyes welling up with tears, as he told now in explicit details how the wife had murdered her kids, I couldn’t hold back, and big sad tears ran down my face. It was a horrid story, LAWYER was representing the husband as the wife was claiming insanity and that was tying up their finances, and it was a huge mess, and…and …and……
Then he noticed I was crying and pushing my food around my plate. He found me all of a sudden ridiculous for being so sensitive. But hey, might I want dessert? Home, home is all I wanted. Home!!
As we drove back on the 10 freeway, I held my breath hoping that the squinting lawyer who was somewhat swaying from his one glass of wine, would get me home in one piece – physically; however the emotional damage was already done – that was irreparable.
You know I wonder what Girlfriend’s guy friend was thinking when he set the two of us up? Why he thought we would be a match? And you know when I saw him again, I asked him. And his response???
“Well, he’s a nice guy when you get to know him, and you once told me looks don’t matter to you, so I thought, you might find him interesting and fun.”
So the Moral of the Story is…..
The LAWYER wasn’t my type – he wasn’t physically, intellectually, emotionally or on any level the guy for me and likely, had I a picture of him before the date, I would have cancelled. But that being said, would I now ask for a picture before a BLIND DATE?
Hmmmm…….At the end of the day, I don’t want to judge someone by their picture. A picture only shows one dimension of a person, and if I was shown a picture of 80 percent of my ex-boyfriends trust me I wouldn’t have dated any of them. If someone is smart and funny and rich of personality and strong, and makes me feel loved and protected…that is an aphrodisiac for me.
So the answer is, NO, I won’t necessarily ask for a picture for my next BLIND DATE, but I WILL ask if he has a hunched back!
http://www.theivyrestaurants.com/ (if you want to know about The Ivy and The Ivy at the Shore, check out the link!)