The Perils of Blind Dating Part 1

*This is Part 1 of a perilous two-part story about my experience on a blind date several years ago. Be sure to check out Part 2 to find out how my date ends!*

Part 1

“I like your sconces.”

Wait. Did I hear that right? Seriously? He liked my sconces? What about my hair? My outfit?

Within a minute or two of entering my second floor 1950s Arcadia, California starter apartment, my blind date Kevin* complimented me on my wrought iron sconces which flanked a large floral print hanging over my sofa. I think I had just learned what sconces were a year or two before, when I got on the mailing list for Pottery Barn and began poring over the pages, seeking ideas to make my own digs look classy. Did he really like my sconces or was he trying to show that he had decorating sense? Was this guy trying too hard?

I try to not make snap judgments about people and size them up based on attractiveness. I try to be the kind of person who looks for inner beauty. Yet, the moment I opened the door and saw my date standing there, I just knew. I hoped that my face didn’t display my disappointment. Kevin was not my physical ideal–at all. And, I couldn’t get past the 70s orange leather jacket he was wearing. I’ve read a respected relationship author who says you should give each person you date a minimum of five dates. I respectfully disagree. Some dates aren’t worth five minutes of time. Sometimes you just know. This was one of those times.

I got set up on this date through a friend who was in a local rock band. I had been to one of her performances wearing my newly purchased lime green corduroy jacket.  Something about moving to California made me decide to kick up my fashion daringness a notch. I sought out bolder colors than traditional Midwestern grays and forest greens. I got a new hairstyle too– short like Genna Elfman’s on Dharma and Greg.  Apparently, from across the dusky room, I had made quite an impression on Kevin. The next time he got a haircut from my rock star friend during her day job, he asked if he could be introduced to the girl in the green jacket he had seen at the show.

I said yes to my friend’s request to give Kevin my number, and yes again we he called me to ask me out. Kevin showed up at my door wearing an orange-red leather jacket that looked like something I saw a character from Good Times wearing. It was the late 90s and I think the only people who were able to wear a clearly out of style jacket and look vintage, thus making the jacket hip were celebrities or people who are so good looking they might be mistaken for a celebrity. Kevin was neither. The jacket itself and the sconce comment were big turn offs. He was trying too hard. I had a sixth sense that it was going to be a long night.

We began the date by stopping by a Starbucks. We exchanged niceties over lattes about where we grew up, went to college, attended church, etc. I wasn’t excited about my date as there was absolutely zero physical attraction and very little personality attraction either, but once you’re in, you’re in.

Phase Two of the date involved going to The Whiskey, a Hollywood club, and seeing some bands perform. Kevin got tickets through his job. We drove the windy roads of Laurel Canyon, or some other roadway that takes you from the San Gabriel Valley into Hollywood. I felt condescended to when Kevin asked, “So, have you ever been to Hollywood before?”

“Yes. I’ve lived here over a year now and I actually travel a territory for work that includes Hollywood.” It irked me that just because I was from the Midwest, people assumed I was sheltered and didn’t get out much.

We kept the awkward conversation going until we arrived at the club. Kevin had the car valet parked and off we went into the dark, loud cavern of musical entertainment. I learned something from what happened next. It’s not a good idea to go to a concert on a blind date. There’s nothing more miserable than sitting in cramped quarters with a stranger listening to music you don’t know, trying to carry on a conversation amid the noise, unless. . . (to be continued)

*not his real name

Do you Tweet and Instagram? Please follow us. And you can check out our Facebook page too!