My slightly neurotic (and completely insane) friend sends me a text message asking me if I would be interested in a set up. One of the voices inside my head screamed "NOOOOOO..." as loudly as possible and subsequently ran out of breath, allowing one of the other voices to quietly chant "go for it." Oh holy hell. I had text messaged back “sure, why not?” before I came to my senses.
I stopped to breathe, catch my breath, and bang my head on the closest wall. Once I recovered I got to thinking. Maybe this won’t be so bad. I mean, just because my last and only other “blind date” nearly sank our pedal boat in the middle of the murky skunk smelling lake/pond doesn't mean it will happen again. Nothing could be as bad as that right? I started to think it might even be fun.
The next day, my neurotic/insane friend came over to clean up Bettina's bathroom as she had a night of not-so-quiet "getting to know you" sessions in it. This “friend” calls the blind date boy from my cell phone and then hands me the phone. I was forced to be pleasant. I was forced to act interested...and I was good. That’s right, I was so good in fact that the boy felt the need to text message me endlessly for the remainder of the afternoon. I agree to go see the fireworks with the boy that very night. Again the voice in my head reasoned that fireworks are good on a first date.
I meet the boy, aka Derek, across from the sports complex. I didn’t feel the urge to run and vomit. This was a good sign. However, I confirmed it. He is indeed a boy! I am 30, he is 22. He was born in the same decade as my friend's 15-yr-old daughter!!
Under normal circumstances, I would have turned tail and ran, but I am slightly intrigued. Roxy, my best friend who hosts this blog, is my age and just recently married a 22-yr-old man-boy. There may be hope.
The fireworks are uneventful but not bad. Nice conversation the whole time. Afterward, we watched a movie…again somewhat uneventful so I went home.
The next day the boy is texting me again…ALL day. We decide in one of the 20 million texts that we will go out again that night. I leave work, call him and he informs me he will call back. I wait but continue with my normal daily routine which includes dinner at dinner time. He of course calls back as I’m eating to invite me to dinner. Hell - I wasn’t about to wait pending a possible call from him. I agree to meet him for dessert.
Let me clarify this statement - dessert at the Village Inn…
Oh wait...let me clarify again - dessert at the Village Inn with his parents.
Holy balls I frantically call Roxy, rant, and explain the situation which was received with gut splitting laughter. I had to hang up.
What happens at dessert? Tune in tomorrow for another episode of The Dating Remi when the real fun begins!
Editors comment: I probably wouldn't have laughed so hard at the fact that Remi was meeting this boy's parents on the second date except for the fact that my dear friend Remi gave me nothing but CRAP for dating (and subsequently marrying) a 22-year-old. She also gave me crap about his overprotective parents. All I have to say is paybacks are a bitch...
4 comments:
I have to say this may be the funniest blind date story I have ever heard...err...read. I can't wait to read the rest.
I am concerned, very concerned. The only thing worse than meeting the parents on the second date would be if they only offer green jello for dessert. OR... the parents could make lude comments about what Remi could do with their son and the whipped cream from her green jello. May the force be with her.
Oh...yes an update based on Molly's comment about lude comments and what the boy can do with whipped cream.....
well there was no whipped cream but on yet another meeting with the 'rents the boy was messing with the ring tones on his phone and his step dad says..."why are you playing with your phone when you have a live flesh and bone woman right next to you that you could be playing with"
Oh holy hell I'm in soooooooo deep
heehee
I want to hear more about your young love!
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