More Intimidation, Blind Date style

Few things scare me...well, heights, big spiders, and accidentally losing my pants in public. But nothing approaches that social phenomenon known as The Blind Date.

Not being much of a social mixer, I searched around online until I found a female in my city who seemed interesting, and we set up a time to meet.
I figured it advisable to be somewhat presentable on the first date, so I decided to forgo my Bullwinkle J. Moose T-shirt and blue jeans and dress formally. A few minutes after heading out toward the restaurant where Delores and I were going to meet, I turned around, went home, and put on some pants. I was a little nervous.

Delores met me outside the restaurant; a stunning lady with sparkling eyes, sparkling dress, sparkling teeth, sparkling face,(?)("I was reaching for a tub of face powder and grabbed a tub of glitter instead" she explained) and a scent it took me a moment to identify. "You smell...ah...fresh and minty." I said.

Delores apologized. "I had a couple of shots of peppermint schnapps before coming here." she said, "I was a little nervous." I certainly understood, and furthermore, did not take long to discover that it was very likely more than just a couple shots.

We made it inside, and the hostess and I steered Delores to a table, and we placed our orders without incident. Ok, one incident. Delores asked the waiter if they had any sticky buns, and when he replied in the affirmative, she laughed uproariously and said they needed to wipe themselves better. I studied the menu.

Soup/salad course was basically ok...there was the moment when Delores asked the waiter if the vegetables in her salad were free range vegetables or had been mass produced and slaughtered at a veggie ranch.but other than that, all went well. Well, one other thing...after the vegetable inquiry, my hand spasmed and I knocked my soup bowl into my lap. The waiter brought an ample supply of napkins in response to my request "Waiter, there's a soup in my fly", and Delores offered to wipe it up. "No thanks", I said hastily, and wiped up myself, noting that both the waiter and I had developed the same nervous twitch.

While we waited for the entree, Delores thrust her face into mine and challenged me to identify which one of her eyes was glass. Rather timidly I pointed to the left one, which was angled slightly to the left and upward. "WRONG!!!" she crowed gleefully, and popped out the other one to show me. Her gripped slipped,("Whoops, slippery....too much eye's cream" she giggled) and the eye rolled across the table and into my lap just as the waiter arrived with a carafe of wine to serve us, which he dropped on the floor. As he scurried to clean up the mess, Delores stood up. "I'm going to the ladies' room." She announced, "Don't go anywhere...I've got my eye on you."

The waiter returned to the table and stared in horror at the eye, which I had placed on her napkin. "There is a back door, sir, if you should wish to slip out..." he offered. "The manager has asked me to tell you that this meal is on the house, if you should so wish to do that." I thanked him heartily, but replied that I was in for the duration...how much worse could it get? The waiter glanced nervously over his shoulder for a moment, then turned back to me. "Sir, she's now twisting the piano player's nose, trying to 'change the station'. She's telling him she wants to hear some country music." he said.
"Where did you say that door was?" I said.

Back home, I erased 57 messages on my answering machine that all began "Dave, where the hell did you go? Those shysters switched my cute little brown lobster with a red one, and thought I wouldn't notice....." and ended with something about "bail money." After a few days, she wasn't hanging around my building anymore....I'm hoping she forgot where I live. Onward....and so it goes.