Blind Dates

First date stories huh?

Hmmmmm…I think I have more than one…but here goes…

Once upon a time the big bald broad wasn’t so big and wasn’t so bald. In the olden days when my waist size was smaller and my hair length was longer I was living in NW ON and all my friends found it the challenge of the century to see who would be the one to find me the hook up of my dreams.

I wasn’t so much looking as I was enjoying the attention…and these women where just hell bent on finding me a mate…they were all married at the time and I’ve never been able to figure out if they wanted me to be as happy or as unhappy as they were…but I digress…and that’s likely a thought for whole other story…

For All Hallow’s Eve one year I decided to throw a big old girl’s night out costume party….there must have been some 30 women in costumes at my house…round about 11 pm we decided to go en-mass to the local biker bar to kick up our heels and act incognito…cos some of these costumes we really really good.

Did ya ever notice how it’s amazing what some women will get up to when they are in a costume…normally quiet reserved little church mice get a belly fulla beer and the next thing ya know they are dancing on tables and forgetting to take their shoes home!

After the wild and wanton show off at the bar…many of the patrons of same and the wild women I was with ended up at my house for an all nighter…in those days all nighter’s happened at my house cos I didn’t have kids.

It was during the time that Van Halen had released the album with the big old poster of David Lee Roth chained, near naked to a fence (funny the things we thought were sexy in our misspent youth…)
So that big poster of David had been nailed to my bedroom wall by one of the not so sober married ladies earlier in the evening and when I finally rolled out of bed the following day I come to discouver that the ladies that had been dressed as Dominatrix and such the night before had hung a whip, a couple of pairs of handcuffs (one of them fur lined) and some other sorta “gear” around that poster in my bedroom. I thought it was a hoot.

I noticed it…and then frankly completely forgot about it.

Flash forward about 3 months and I have put my foot down with the married ladies…NO MORE BLIND DATES!!

Sure enough…as soon as you are surely not looking…you meet the man of your dreams. Literally. I bumped into this gorgeous chunk of masculinity at the bank…this man is soo breathtaking that I am not even able to string words together in a sentence.

I spend a week er so daydreaming about him and what I might wanna do should the chance ever arise (well…daydreamin and night dreamin too…if ya get my drift) and during that time the power’s that be set the married women off on another find Wyz a man tangent.

I come to find out that one of my friends has set me up on a blind date.

Being the shy reserved quiet woman I am (?)…I am reluctant to go…but after much cajoling I do…I get to the meeting place and low and behold…it’s the daydream guy!

I figure this is kismet…karma…meant to be…I am farkempt! In my mind’s eye I am singing, “someday my prince will come”. Life is good!

We go out to dinner and a show…I am not only able to string words together in sentences…I am witty and funny and give just an all round stellar performance of someone he should want to spend some serious time with. We then go on to a pub for a couple of drinks…a very very enjoyable night…a very nice time…things are clicking along just wonderfully and I am happy.

At the end of the evening we get to my front door and he kisses me…I invite him in, ostensibly for a coffee (?) We end up doing some hard-core heavy breathing on the couch…

I am besotted…
I invite him to spend the night…
He agrees…
I suggest he meet me in the bedroom…last door on the left while I slip into the bathroom…probably to catch my breath…and check between my teeth for left over salad greens.

I get in the powder room and decide I oughta at least brush my teeth and hair and do something about the eye make up that is beating a fast retreat across my cheeks…that I should make myself a little more presentable…the anticipation is building to phenomenal levels…(as it only can for the young and the “full of” hormones) I am giddy and giggling like a schoolgirl…so I give myself a little pep talk in the bathroom mirror as well…just to prove to myself that this isn’t near as important as I seem to be making it. After all, I am an adult woman and I am in control. Anybody hear me roar?

I open the door of the bathroom, all-full of my sexy self to see him (said man of my dreams) standing in the hallway by my front door looking suspiciously like a deer caught in the headlights.

He is wearing his jacket and boots and has his hand on the doorknob about to leave.

“What’s up?”
“What’s going on?”
“Where ya goin?” I ask.

“Ummmmm…I gotta go…I don’t know how to say this” he says …“But you definitely ain’t my kinda woman!” And out the door he runs…not walk but runs….in such a freakin hurry that he leaves my front door wide open… I am puzzled and I follow him out on the porch…he won’t say another word as he climbs into his truck and beats a hasty retreat, gravel whipping under tires without so much as even a glance goodbye over his shoulder.

I go back in the house and locking my front door.I walk down the hall to my bedroom…and flip on the overhead light…

It is then that I spot the poster, and accoutrement. The whips, chains and handcuffs…and as I remember the look of abject terror on his face and I collapse in tears of laughter on my bed…

Some things were just not meant to be.