Blind Date Diary: Are You Familiar?
Carrie gets way too “familiar” with a freaky blind date
I just got back from a blind date. The upside: He was on time. The downside: the 32 minutes that followed, in which my date confessed his love of Formula 1 racing, stone masonry and the fact that his girlfriend had just had a miscarriage.
We met at a fun but classy bar in New York’s West Village. Unfortunately, “Roger” was neither fun nor classy nor sane. Here’s how the nightmare unfolded:
Carrie: Hi! I’m Carrie.
Roger stares at me, nodding. The creepy smiling and nodding without speaking continues for several seconds. I try to convince myself that this is just shyness, not serial-killerness.
Carrie: So … this is a cool spot. Do you live around here?
Roger: No way! (Spoken as if I just asked if he lived in Baghdad City rather than the West Village) I’m from Yonkers. Are you familiar?
Carrie: Um …
Roger: It’s awesome, but I guess you wouldn’t know. So you’re from L.A.?
Carrie: Yeah. L.A.’s great, but I don’t miss my car. Traffic gets so annoying there.
Roger: I drove down today in my car. I love my car, couldn’t live without it. I’m passionate about cars. I’m passionate about car culture, in fact.
Way to impress the ladies, Roger.
Carrie: So, are you into NASCAR?
Roger: No way. Formula 1 all the way. It’s European. Are you familiar?
Carrie: Kind of.
Awkward silence where he smiles and nods at me.
Carrie: So, um, what kind of work do you do?
Roger: For money, for pleasure or for fun?
I choke on my drink, trying not to laugh directly in his face.
Carrie: Let’s hear all three.
Roger: I think people should define themselves by their pleasures, not by their jobs. Pleasure to me is everything I do outside of work – walking, thinking, cooking, looking at cars, silver work, the whole world is full of pleasures.
Carrie: Wow, that’s a lot of pleasure. So what do you do “for money”?
Roger: Dialysis tech. It sucks. But I’m thinking seriously about getting into massage therapy. All my friends think I’d be awesome at it. There’s a class starting next week and I’m seriously thinking about enrolling.
Carrie: Oh, that sounds like it could be good. Do you like massage?
Instantly cringe with regret upon asking that question.
Roger: I do, but I’m concerned about the strain to my hands.
Carrie: Oh. Yep. Guess that would be a job concern.
Roger: So I’m weighing my options.
Check watch – we’re 15 minutes in … my drink is drained. Crap.
Roger: I’m also really passionate about stone masonry. Are you familiar?
I laugh out loud. Right in his face.
Carrie: I’m sorry, I was just thinking about something else … that was funny … from before. Anyway, what makes you so passionate about stone masonry?
Roger: I love to build things with my hands.
Carrie: Oh, really? What have you built?
Roger: Silver jewelry. Mostly pendants of cars and stuff.
Roger: I know. I’ve made all kinds of silver car models.
Roger: Have you ever gotten into focus groups?
Carrie: Um, what do you mean?
Roger: Like I volunteer for focus groups all the time. For extra cash. Are you familiar?
Carrie: I’ve really never met anyone that does that before.
Roger: Yep. I could really teach you some things.
Carrie: I think you already have, Roger.
I reach over to my handbag, ready to end this misery, when the following comes out of his mouth:
Roger: So do you have kids? Ever been pregnant?
Carrie: Excuse me?
Roger: I’m only asking because I almost had a kid once.
Carrie: (visibly cringing) What do you mean “almost”?
Roger: My girlfriend got pregnant. But it turned out ectopic. Are you familiar? And she lost the baby. Then she totally changed and got all weird and negative.
Carrie: Yeah, I’m guessing you might get “negative” when you lose a baby.
Roger: Yeah, it was weird, though, because at first we didn’t really want the baby. Then she completely changed.
WTF! WTF! WTF!
Carrie: Whaa when did this happen?
Roger: Um, let’s see. Well, it’s gotta be now … um, about … two months ago now. Wow. It sucked.
Carrie: I don’t know what to say.
And that’s when I stand up and leave. Because as much as I love a good story, miscarriage talk on a first date is too creepy even for me. Roger, unfazed by my abrupt exit, calls me the next day.
Roger: Hey, it’s Roger from last night.
Carrie: Roger?? Sorry … I’m not familiar.
Tell us: how do you survive a really awful blind date?