I've Never Played Cupid Before…
Though I HAVE dressed in nothing but a diaper and shot arrows at people.
But, that is not important right now.
I’ve never tried to set anyone up before. I’ve been tangentially involved with others being set-up. I’ve had people say, “Wouldn’t they be great together?” To which I’d reply, “Suuuuure, why not?”
It has never, ever crossed my mind that two other people would be a good couple.
Yes, yes, “self-absorbed” blah blah blah.
When I meet a female, I immediately size up whether or not she’d be a good fit for me. If not, then they are pushed into a nether region, where they land on a spectrum that ranges from friend to patio furniture.
I have been set-up before.
When I was in college, a friend’s (godless and EVIL) girlfriend thought it would be fun to go on double dates. So, she had a single friend and decided that the four of us should go out together one night. I was someplace south of enthused.
I fought it for a while, but to stop all the pesky talking, I relented.
Because my life works that way, the soirée was planned for a night that turned out to be shitty timing for me.
I was working that summer for a big building supply retailer. We were setting up their new warehouse store. This involved long hours and lots of grunt work. So, of course, the date was arranged for a night when I had worked three days straight. Like 14 hour days.
I was broken.
To make matters worse, just before I got off work that night, I was lugging bags of cement and one had a hole in it. I tossed it on a pile and got a crapload of dust in my eyes.
My contact lenses were unimpressed.
I went home and walked into the apartment. The three of them were sitting at the table, waiting impatiently for me.
The fix-up chica was VERY cute.
I still wanted to back out, but didn’t want to be rude. So, I took a quick shower. (“Quick” being a very relative term when it comes to me and showers.) I didn’t shave because I was having a hard time lifting my arms.
I finished showering, got dressed, splootched some product in my hair, looked in the mirror and thought…
“Man, I look like crap.”
Yet, I soldiered on.
We headed for some bar.
At this point I should admit that I couldn’t remember the girl’s name. Still can’t.
She tried to make smalltalk with me in the car on the way downtown. She’d ask a question. There’d be a 5 second delay. And then I’d say, “I’m sorry, I missed that.”
What little mental energy I had, was spent wondering what about her made them think she and I would get along.
We got to the bar and found a table. The three of them chatted and laughed. I stared at the pretty lights.
I even attempted to tell her a funny story at one point… but completely forgot the end. And the middle. And I kinda messed up the opening.
At some point, she grew tired of my inability to carry on a conversation. And, strangely enough, she wasn’t at all won over by the whole “crackhead who was beaten by his dealer for not paying” look I had cultivated.
She wandered off to talk to some friends.
I pulled the pin and headed home early. I didn’t even bother trying to say “good night.”
I fell onto my bed that night and slept the sleep of the just.
Until the next morning when my friend came into my room.
He stared at me, just shaking his head.
“Dude… you realize that she is a bit of a slut, right?”
Uhm, no. I didn’t realize that. Talk about burying the lead. If only he had shared that information the night before and —
Bah. She could have been a hooker/contortionist and it wouldn’t have made any difference.
The funny (again, relative) thing is that my friend’s (Godless and EVIL) girlfriend actually did have a friend that I was moderately interested in. However, she was involved with some old and, if memory serves, married dude.
Now that I think about it, that “old” dude was probably my current age.
Well, that’s a kick in the jiggers.