Sometimes mothers don't know best...

I am not a big fan of set-ups or blind dates. I rarely and reluctantly agree to be set up by my friends… and even more seldom so by my parents. One thing I’ve learned, despite their suffocating love, is that my parents have no idea who is right for me. At this point, given my age, I think they probably think that anybody who is still breathing and is able to open his eyes to look at me (through his cataracts) and blink once for “yes” is a great match for me… and I am not even close to retirement. Nor do I look it. In fact, a few years ago, a girl at Great America, whose job it was to accurately guess people’s age, guessed I was 10 years younger than my stated age. I got to pick the biggest stuffed animal there and she might have been fired for it, but that’s another story.

Now back to dating. Even though I don’t like my parents setting me up with anybody, there have been a few exceptions. You would think that I would have learned my lesson, after they tried to introduce me to a few losers, one of which spent 4 hours telling me how drunk he liked to get and how so very much he enjoyed kicking people’s asses. Wow, what a catch! Then, there was that one nice bald guy… but he was so nice that I couldn’t figure out if he had a personality under that thick hairless layer of agreeableness. I don’t mind baldness when it’s on the top of a head, but I do mind baldness when it’s of the personality.

Anyway, apparently having not quite yet learned my lesson, my mother convinced me to meet the older son of one of the local doctors. Whatever she said to convince me to allow her this gesture is now beyond me. I guess I was in medical school at the time and he was related to somebody in medicine… I am not sure, but a few phone conversations later, he was driving an hour and a half to see me. I considered this a fairly bold move, so I was excited to meet this guy, a guy who will earn the right in all of our hearts and minds to deserve the name: Mr. Hands-On.

First impression: no sparks or fireworks. But, he had just driven such a long way, so I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. After about 2 minutes of hanging out, he offered to give me a massage. I would have considered it a nice offer, had it come from somebody who I knew well, but considering this guy had barely been in my presence long enough for me to steep my tea, I politely declined. Despite my several attempts to make conversation, each one was shot down with yet another proposal for a massage. He even offered a foot massage if I thought the idea of him touching my back was too forward. I was getting a little uncomfortable with his proposals. However, not only had he come all the way from another city to see me, he was the son of a friend of my mother’s. So I had to play nice.

We came back to my house after lunch. (In retrospect, a very poor administrative decision on my part.) I sat on the couch in my living room and he positioned himself on the floor. We had a semi-normal conversation for a few minutes, until his attention was suddenly distracted by the Costa Rican figurines on my bookshelf. His eyes shifted hungrily from one wooden figure to the next, each one of a man and woman in a different exaggerated sexual position. Note to self: Hide inappropriate figures when attempting to make a “proper” first impression. As well as when trying to stave off the advances of the overly-eager. I cringed at the thought of what he might say.

“I see there is a man kissing that woman’s breasts. Do you like your breasts kissed?”

WHAT?!?!? Though I should have half-expected it, I was still shocked at the audacity. We’d moved on from the topic of him massaging my feet to whether or not I liked my mammaries suckled. Smiling awkwardly, I explained to him that I didn’t feel comfortable discussing this on our first meeting. He seemed to have understood where I was coming from, and just as I thought we are going to switch subjects he proceeded…

“Well, if you are not comfortable talking about your breasts, then tell me what your favorite sexual position is… and do you like giving or receiving oral sex?”

I don’t think I even pretended to be polite after this question. I told him that I was suddenly very tired and asked him to leave. On his way out he informed me that I was a nice girl, but a little too TIMID for his taste!!! Oh if only he knew how wrong he was! But he’d never have the privilege to find out, much less to kiss my breasts.

He called me the next day though, to ask if I wanted to hang out again. So I decided to forgo timid, go unswervingly to bitch, and directed him straight to my mother. It’s high time she start meeting the men she decides to set me up with first. Actually, it’s high time I stop going on blind dates that she arranges…

-Innigma