Another one bites the dust...

Another column I wrote for the TC News:

I said I would never go on another one. I made my friends promise to slap me upside the head if I even considered it – and yet, here I was.
Having been on three, I feel I can confidently say going on a blind date is the bane of my existence.
I like to think of myself as being open and spontaneous but enough is enough.
I have found that typically it is not the guy's fault that the date is less then ideal. The blame lies rather in throwing two people in the same room that have never even seen a picture of each other and expecting them to survive a night together under the guise of a date. Add to that the moments leading up to the date, and you have a train wreck. Take for instance my last date:
A while back, a well-meaning, beloved friend asked me to consider going out with her best friend's son. Of course, she thought we would be perfect for each other.
I wonder, what makes everyone think that when you are single, that they know beyond a shadow of doubt the ideal match for you.
Because I live in the middle of nowhere and my house is hard to find, we decided to meet in town at 6:30. I drove into the parking lot at around 6:25 and it wasn't long before a pick-up drove up and parked next to me. The truck revved up its motor and the guy peered out at me. My first thoughts were, "Nope, not happening. I am just going to go over there and tell him my acid reflux is flaring up and I left my medicine at home."
I slowly got out of my car savoring every minute of my freedom and walked over to the truck. I quickly glanced in the back of the truck for serial killer favorites that might be detrimental to my health: knives, saws or the infamous chainsaw.
As I opened the door, the guy gave me a quick look over and then said, "Hi."
I remember thinking, "Gosh, could this get any more awkward?"
Often times when things seem to be at their most awkward, they are just heating up. Noticing the perplexed look on his face, it suddenly dawned on me that he might not be my date.
Both horrified and slightly relieved, I asked him his name only to find out that he indeed was not my date, but an innocent bystander to the demise of my last ounce of pride and dignity.
I mumbled "Nice to meet you, I am sorry but I am meeting someone and don't know a thing about him," and stumbled off to my car to hide in shame until my real date appeared.
There are no future blind dates in the works for me, but obviously, overlooking important questions such as a general description and exactly what he drives will never happen again.
Another one bites the dust…