The Perils of Blind Dating Part 2

This is Part 2 of a perilous two-part story about my experience on a blind date several years ago. Make sure to read Part 1 first!

Part 2

The valet accidentally locked the keys in Kevin’s car which meant that after enduring a few hours of loud concert music that I didn’t even know, it was midnight and I was stuck in a parking lot with a man I had no interest in.

Kevin stood there holding a large golf umbrella over us as it had started to mist. Here we were in Tinsel Town, under an umbrella with the lights of Sunset Boulevard surrounding us,  Kevin in his orange jacket, I in my green one. What a moment it could have been, if only there had been an ounce of chemistry!

“Can you get them out?” Kevin asked.

“Sorry,” the valet responded.

Kevin stood there defeated and passive.

Something in me took over, “Look, you locked the keys into the car. You’re the one that needs to get them out! Call a locksmith. We can’t stand here all night in the rain!” What I was really thinking was, “Snap to it! I’m having a miserable night and I don’t want this guy to be under any illusion that this is a romantic moment. I don’t like him.”

The valet called for a locksmith.  Kevin and I waited for about 20 minutes under “our” umbrella until the locksmith came and opened the door and retrieved the car keys. I felt a surge of relief. I would soon be home in bed and done with this date that was work, not fun.

I don’t remember much of a conversation for the first half of the car ride home. I resented Kevin for not taking charge of the key situation. I never like having to be bitchy. But at least we were now on our way home, not standing in what could have been a perfectly romantic situation in a parking lot on Sunset at midnight in the rain. By this time I hated his orange leather jacket even more.

“Uh, oh!” Kevin’s words broke into my thoughts. “Oh, no.” He looked into his rear view mirror and started slowing down. “I’m being pulled over.” He made his way over to the side of the freeway and I turned and saw the red flashing lights.

“What happened? You weren’t speeding.”

“I know what this is about.”

Yikes! What did that mean?

“Oh no,” Kevin moaned and slumped.

An officer approached Kevin’s window and shined his flashlight into the car.

“Do you know why I stopped you?” he asked sternly.

“No, officer.” Wait–wasn’t that lie? He said he knew what this was about.

“You’re driving with expired tags on your license plate. I need to see your driver’s license and proof of insurance.”

Kevin rifled through the glove compartment of his Jetta and his center console. The officer looked impatient.

“Sorry, officer, I can’t seem to find them.”

The officer stepped away. He was gone for a few minutes. I was still trying to figure out the comment, “I know what this is about.”

The officer returned, “Mr. Smalley*, your license has been suspended. Does that ring a bell? And it appears in addition to having expired tags and driving without a license, you do not currently have car insurance. Do you realize how serious this is?”

“Yes,” Kevin nodded looking down. He made up some excuse about having been involved in an auto accident and having to go to court.

“Mr. Smalley, do you realize that because of your infractions, I have the legal right to impound this vehicle and take you to jail tonight? But I don’t want to do that right now in front of your lady friend.”

I thought, “Officer, I’m NOT his lady friend; I’m not even a friend! I’m an innocent bystander on the world’s worst blind date ever. You should have seen how he handled the keys being locked in the car!”

The officer continued, “But I’m not going to do that because I don’t want to embarrass you in front of your lady friend. But I am going to cite you and you’ll need to appear in court. And because you don’t have a license, she’ll have to drive home.” The officer walked away to write up the ticket.

Kevin sat there helplessly. He looked like he was going to cry. He then turned to me with a forced smile and said, “This just isn’t our night is it?”

I thought, “This isn’t OUR anything. There is no OUR! OUR implies togetherness. We are not together!”

Kevin then said, “You know, one of my personality flaws is that I’m just a really laid back person. I know I should have taken care of this before.”

“Laid back?! Are you kidding me. Criminal.” negative thoughts swirled in my head.

“At the risk of sounding like a real bitch**, there are certain situations in life you can’t afford to be laid back about. Having a valid license, current tags and auto insurance fall into that category.”

The police officer came back and handed over the citation. He then made sure we swapped positions in the front seat. I became the driver. Thank God it was not stick shift or I don’t think we would have ever made it home.

We drove in silence the remaining ten miles to my apartment building. Once we got there I said, “What are you going to do now? How are you getting home? You can’t drive.”

Kevin climbed back into the driver’s seat and said he WAS going to drive home, “it’s not that far.”

“I’d like to see you again,” Kevin said.

“Oh,” I said. “Well, good night.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

The next time I saw my friend who had set us up, she was very apologetic. I assured her it wasn’t her fault and said that even if it weren’t for the cop getting involved, I don’t think it would have been a love match anyway. I didn’t tell her the part about the odd sconce compliment, nor the 70s leather jacket.

*not his real name

**I don’t normally use that word, but it really fit in that moment

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