It was a hot sticky summer night. There wasn’t a breeze, but the sun was going down. I found relief from the heat indoors and was about to relax when it happened. A man with a mysterious smile asked me one little question, “What are you doing tomorrow night, kid?”
“Daaaad. You know I’m supposed to go bowling tomorrow!” I could tell he was up to something, and oh boy was he ever. It’s almost too horrible to write, but here goes: My father wanted to set me up on a blind date. Shock. I was in complete shock. What was happening? Was I that old? Or that desperate seeming? Kill me. Kill me. Kill me. I expressed these sentiments as well as the fact that I thought surely I could make it to twenty-five before being set-up by my parents. Heck I’m not even twenty-three yet! You think the suggestion of a blind date is terrifying enough, but no, then you remember who suggested the date in the first place: your father.
My dad, oh, good ol’ dad, had actually spotted a guy and considered that I might like to go out with him. Life is so much more torturous, I mean comical, than the movies. In the movies it’s always the mother who meddles; the mother who has the brilliant idea of her daughter meeting one boy and then another. I’m that lucky–of course not.
After reeling over the matter for several minutes, I found myself composed enough to say, “Thanks, Dad. But I’m going bowling tomorrow.” With this response I was certain the subject would be dropped when once again my dad horrified me.
“Just check him out on Facebook. You can look people up on that right?” Oh yes, my father actually referenced Facebook in terms of stalking someone! All I could do was shake my head. It’s disturbing when a parent grows up enough to understand social networks like Twitter and Facebook, ya know? Although, I have to admit as horrified as I was, there was another part of me that was proud. After all the trips home and spending time on Facebook, my dad finally got it.
I graciously deflected the question and moved out of the room while still shaking my head. As Friday went by without another peep of the blind date, I prayed silently that an incident like this would never happen again. If only I’d known the incident wasn’t actually over. Leave it to a boy to wait a day or two to call you.
That’s right, I did get a call, Saturday night. And while the guy sounded normal/nice enough on the phone, lucky for me (no sarcasm this time), I wasn’t in Sulphur anymore. I was back in Norman. However, as I talked to this blind-date guy, I started to think (why do I do that!?): maybe I should go out with him?
Curiosity killed the cat, right? Well, it led me down the path of dinner and a movie–don’t worry, I’ve got nine lives too. Now you’re probably shocked. How could I do it? Go on a date with a guy my dad wanted me to, really?
You’ll forgive me, I’m sure. But I wanted to see. I had to know exactly what kind of guy my dad would set me up with. So, I came back to Sulphur on Sunday, helped my mom with Sunday School, and waited for my set-up to arrive.
Turns out, it wasn’t so bad; it wasn’t even bad. He was nice. We had fun. Now, don’t ever quote me on saying that if either of your parents tries to set you up, you should go. But if you take my experience as an example, once you get over being petrified, it’s not so bad. Granted, Dad, if you’re listening, never ever set me up again…that is unless he’s a brain surgeon resembling Dr. McDreamy, and if you don’t know who that is–go look him up, you won’t find him on Facebook. XOXO
No Comments on "The Set-Up"