My year had began on a high note, as most years do, all my unmade resolutions coming to pass without major event. January was coming to an end and I was looking forward to February, only one thing stood in my way: ‘VALENTINES’.
Clearly I was not cut from the same block as most of my close-knit friends and family. I was a chip different from any other majorly because I did not revere the day as most did nor feel sufficiently philanthropic to engage in the petty showings of romance and blatant displays of post-bedroom art that can only be described as a travesty to those of us who chose to remain, and rightly so, alone on this ‘momentous occasion’.
Or so I thought.
There’s something about majority and what they are engaging in, knowledge as to their vanity does nothing to quell the inner voice that seems to heed their call. An ever-present cooing that slowly but surely draws you in, and unfortunately I did get drawn in. Though I must disclaim any knowledge as to the scheme my very ‘faithful’ cronies had laid out between themselves, (David and Harry, I curse you). Apparently, with full knowledge of my ever-present ego they called me out to a dare, one that was to prove that my pessimism on the topic had nothing to do with any inherent fear of women. And being the person that I am, I fell for it. I was to, within the two weeks of February, find me a suitable, lovely, intelligent young lady, woo her and prove that romance or the lack of it was a choice and not the unfortunate dictatorship of fate.
Online, after careful deliberation as to my options was my obvious choice. Using the lonely hearts section of my favorite chat community, I got myself a very capable, intelligent and by default of intellect, beautiful lady. That is my unbiased opinion of her ‘online characteristics’. And chat we did, on various issues affecting our love struck community, the stupidity of it all!
The culmination of which was a date..on Valentines. Ok..Ok..I know I should have known better but in my defense, she proposed it and at the time (under influence of hours of online exchange) I thought it was a good idea. After all we knew better that to think that the outcome of our date would be determined by the particular ‘Date’ or that it had anything to do with it.
All this time David and Harry were endless torture. Blind Dates as we all know can have disastrous ends, and they spared no expense in engraving this images in my already fragile mind. That notwithstanding, I was determined to see this through, preparing with zeal to make the best out of my first impression. The 13th passed without major event save for the ever present thought as to the morrow. I had a fitful night, waking up severally to stare at my wall clock and I must admit I was a bit excited even if it shames me to say so.
I was up early on the 14th, checking to make sure all was in place, confirming our date, and receiving endless calls from those two ‘devils’. With meticulous grooming and my favourite shirt on, I was ready for the Queen herself.
Arriving early, I got myself seated at the local ‘meet-me-at’ joint, Bettyz. I was a nervous wreck. It took all my will not to confirm that she was still on her way. It was even made more worse by the throng of couples who had turned up for the festivities and yes!, I did stand out in a weird kind of way. I was broken from this reverie by my very loud ringtone, automatically drawing all attention to me. I picked up my phone fearing the worst, she’d turned up.
She was a vision of pure loveliness, truthfully, I almost ran out of the place. I might have had not the ringing phone drawn all attention to me. I must say it wasn’t the best of my first impressions, there’s something about beautiful people that takes us out of our element and draws out our fears. And it happened to me, I guess it must have been my native tongue influence but English became a foreign language that I was just beginning to learn and I did stammer a bit..ok..alot.
It must have been her faulty hearing — or so I like to think — but she didn’t seem to mind nor ‘hear’ my inexcusable inability to hold down a conversation. I couldn’t believe it, a master of prose and the spoken word was at a loss for words, wow! Making our orders was a welcome distraction and an even better one was the arrival of the food. I was finally enjoying it, taking the moments in-between bites to make idle chatter. Everything was going on well, until a very rebellious piece of veal decided it’d take a shortcut through my wind pipe!
COUGH! COUGH!…I desperately tried to subtly cough it back into place, and it was only when I started coughing sporadically that she screamed for help. I was choking! Of all days. It took the efforts of a trained medic to save my life, one which wouldn’t have been at risk had I decided to stay this one out. That was the icing on my smoking cake and we decided to bring an end to our date and call it a day. It was a welcome decision but I must say it did feel mildly hurting.
You’re probably wondering what happened next, so am I. It was the last I heard of her. In fact, all I heard was the endless ribbing and laughter from my friends. Officially, I have retired first from ‘BLIND DATES” and second from everything with a “Valentine’ connotation to it.