The Blind Date

I couldn’t believe I agreed to this, this wasn’t me, this wasn’t something I did, I was against the idea. The notion of being setup was like watching guilt and humiliation hanging out together, as they write a play or sitcom. This was a role I did not prepare for, only because I never could find any inner motivation. No reliable resource inside this soul.

Who signs up for an event of such a shameful possibility? Besides me of course. I was being setup with a possible manic, maybe a preacher, What if she is this holier than thou religious, soulless, heartless witch? I don’t know any spells or witch craft, I’m not a wizard. I didn’t attend Hogwarts, I live in Arizona. I went to a public school and got decent grades, I didn’t need to buy an owl for my homework.

Incoming Call: Big Bro

Hey, where you at?

Im driving to the place, about 5 minuets away.

Ok, so she is already at the restaurant. She said she will be sitting on a bench.

What kind of bench?

A standard one, I don’t know she didn’t get into specifics.

Well there are many kinds of benches, and what did you actually say about me to her?

That’s really not relevant right now. Just be yourself and let the charm ride. Everything will fall into place.

Let the charm ride.

I’m so excited for you.

Call Ends.

I finally gave in, after countless offers and suggestions, I was meeting someone new. This was a blind date. I normally dodged the setup and just listen to the I think you guys would make a good couple/ You guys would look cute together. All this propaganda gets feed to you; someone I trust and believe is playing love monopoly with my life. Rolling the dice and hoping not to end up in jail.

I think everyone, once in a while gets a powerful false sense of power. All of a sudden we want to be Cupid the match maker, I’m going to get these two people to fall in love. And if they are successful then they can say Yeah I got those two together. All in all, if this date goes well, my friend gains bragging rights. I’m not some hopeless romantic, I don’t need training wheels for life or love.

This could all be a prank for all I know. My friend has a sick sense of humor, that’s why they’re my friend. They probably got some stranger on craigslist to play a catch. This blind date was sounding like a bad idea. And how the hell can I suddenly be cute when standing next to someone? Maybe that’s not such a wonderful trait, I don’t really need to be cute. I’m good with how I look already, thank you very much.

There was a struggling marachi group playing mexican love songs outside the restaurant. A guitar case laid on the cement, filled with crinkled dollar bills and enough change to buy a decent meal from the dollar menu. Kids selling jewelry and gum along the walkway to the front. The evening was holding its flare and the restaurant lights were preparing the people for night. The cool breeze did comfort me as I look for this bench. This famous bench, where it could all go wrong.

And there she was….


Author: storiesfrommystomach

I am from a Village called South Komelik on the Tohono O'odham Nation. I enjoy poetry and philosophy. Hope you enjoy the blog! :)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s