Blind Date

Henry is looking at the mirror frustrated. He has had a cowlick all day that has been bothering him. He has tried everything. Water, gel, wax, hair product. Nothing works. It sticks up and sneers at him. Today, of all days, when he has a blind date. Henry has never been suave or smooth with the ladies, or anyone for that matter. Henry is a weird man. There is nothing wrong with him; he is a nice guy. But he can’t talk to most people. A friend from college decided set him up on his first blind date eight years ago. That was a nightmare. It began and ended like a Kafka novel: poorly and then horribly. Today, a friend from work set him up with a successful businesswoman, so he cannot screw it up. But his first priority is not being late. He had learned from experience.

He is tall, thickly built, but he doesn’t carry himself like a large man. He is handsome. Some men need to maintain themselves with beauty products. Henry is ignorant of all these things. He goes to his closet to get his clothes. He lays his dress shirt, slacks, belt and tie on his bed. His chosen outfit for tonight. He looks at it and cannot believe the trouble he went through to find these clothes. He isn’t fashionable, and a very frustrated salesperson had to assist him. But the final product does look quite nice. He puts on everything except the tie. However, now he has to figure out how to tie a Windsor knot. This is quite intimidating. He looks back at the mirror. The cowlick is still there. He tries to coax it down. Nope. He looks at the clock. He has ten minutes. More than enough time. He has the instructions in front of him. Hangs aroung his neck, crosses it, then makes the knot too long. Then too short. Then too thick. Then to the right. Then to the left. Henry cannot believe how difficult tying a tie is. He looks at the clock again, realizes he is about to be late and rushes out the door.

Doris looks into the mirror. She shakes her head. Sighs. Returns to her routine. However, tonight is special. Doris has a blind date. The first time was exhilarating. Afterwards, it became frustrating. She was simply terrible at dating. At the entire process. First of all, she was never on time. Getting ready is a challenge. Understatement of the century. Second, she was just awkward with strangers. Doris never inherited the business of carrying a conversation. She was a kind woman. Just very awkward. Unfortunately, her job took up the rest of her time. A colleague set her up with a good friend. She had ended many a blind date disastrously. She would not end tonight the same way.

She looks at the clock. Plenty of time before the date. There is no way she will be late. She begins to apply her makeup. Doesn’t need much. She has delicate features and a small bone structure. She looks at her outfit then looks back on painful memories. On an aside, putting Doris in a Sak’s Fifth Avenue is absolutely sinister and should outlawed. It is cruel and unusual punishment. She was completely bewildered, lost – Doris did not inherit the shopping intuition that most women have. She ended up finding a beautiful dress for tonight: a perfect fit.

Her outfit and makeup are ready. Last but definitely not least, Doris must face her biggest mountain. She must somehow transform her genetically granted frizzy hair into a beautiful, manageable hairdo. Good luck. She begins to take a comb to it. Patience is key. However, it jams; the beast has awoken. She tries to put some hair product in it. Chemicals only worsen the situation. Back to the comb. But the beast will not let go. She tugs, and it predictably snaps, like three of her other combs this past year. Her hair a complete wreck, she attempts to take a new, stronger comb to it, but to no avail. Flustered, Doris gives in to the beast and finally decides to just take a random hat from her closet. She says to herself that she just cannot be late again.

Henry drives into the parking lot, late as per the usual. He looks into his side mirror and sighs. His cowlick still will not go down. In a last ditch maneuver, he takes a swab of spit, and attempts to pat it down. It comes right back up, like a little middle finger. Sighs. Henry slaps his thighs to calm his shaky nerves. He has screwed so many of these dates up by being this nervous. He gets out of the car, does some shakes and stretches, and walks into the restaurant.

Doris pulls into the parking lot, five minutes late, of course. She looks in the car mirror and adjusts her hat so her blind date will not be able to see her monstrosity of a “hairdo”. She does some last minute breathing exercises to calm herself down, exits the car and walks into the restaurant.

Henry looks at Doris’ charming dress, non-matching hat and bashful eyes and smiles. Doris looks at Henry’s off-center tie, cow-licked hair and shy gaze and chuckles approvingly.

They are two kindred souls, bonded instantly. They leave, arm in arm.