I like to think I'm Carrie Bradshaw, but did Carrie Bradshaw ever encounter a Patti Stanger, Miss Millionaire Matchmaker herself? Did I just one-up my fictional idol and inspiration? I think I did.
Last night ... I went out on a blind date, set up by a local matchmaker that scouted me months back and kept me in her files to share with eligible bachelors that apparently have some money. All I knew about this guy was that his name was Roy, he was a medical doctor, had cool hobbies and was tall.
My day leading up to this evening was pretty typical. I left for work without my bag of "sexy clothes" (per the matchmaker, I needed to show skin. I don't show skin, mostly because it's droopy in nature, but I digress...). I had to be at work at 7:30 AM to present to my leadership team. Of course since I was running late I didn't get to eat breakfast. Note: I'm newly on "head meds" to control some OCD and anxiety. Note: I REALLY should eat when I take those in the morning. As soon as I stood up to speak, my legs turned to jelly (not loose-skin-jelly, like they didn't want to hold me up jelly). My pits also started to sweat, bad. And I saw spots. I'm still not sure what came out of my mouth for 5 minutes. All I was thinking was "Don't pass out, you're wearing a dress and you forgot your underwear. Again. Don't hit the ground. Don't." I know I had a remote clicker in my hands, I think I used the laser and accidentally pointed it in a chubby guys eye. Survived my speech, speaking jibberish. Ran out of that meeting into about 5 others. Ran home, changed into my "sex clothes" then remembered I had a psychiatrist appointment. Ugh!
Ran out of the house emailing my shrink telling her I would be late. And traffic sucked. Ugh. As I'm driving my boss is looking for me. Can't tell him I'm at the shrink so I say I'm "in a meeting" and will see him in 45 minutes. I run into the shrinks office and the receptionist and others in the waiting room stop and stare. 5 inch heels, 4 inch skirt, more makeup than a lady of the night. "Hi, I'm here for my 4pm appointment". The receptionist says "Ummmm, you cancelled this afternoons appointment". I stood there, crinkled my face, and then yes ... I did cancel that didn't I? Because the day was so busy. My response... "Oh man, I'm going crazy!" In a shrinks office. Again, looks from the others waiting. To recover I said "Well I guess i'm in the right place for that then, huh?".
Ba dum dum ching. Thank you, I'll be here all night folks.
Run out of the psych office and am now furiously hurrying back to meet with my boss because we have a huge meeting with the CIO in the morning and need to finalize things. I get all the way to the office and as I open my car door to step out, I remember my outfit. I'm dressed like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Before she gets the wad of cash to shop. GREAT.
I have no choice but to walk into my bosses office and tell him the truth.
"Listen, I know I'm not in the same clothes I was wearing all day and I look very inappropriate but I'm going on a blind date after this. If you don't want me to be single for the rest of my life you'll ignore this outfit, not ask any questions, and just carry on.".
He says "This is exciting!! How did this come up. Did a friend ..."
"Nope! No questions". He laughed and we worked like maniacs until 5:30. I wasn't supposed to be in Boston for my date until 7:30. I planned to just sit in my car for a while, no point driving home, no where else to go in between dressed like a tramp. And just as I stepped out of the office for the millionth time that day - I get a text from one of my friends from work... "Chinese and a drink"?
"Can I drink before a first date" I ask.
"Absolutely".
"Fine then - let's go"
"Ok," he says "I'll ask Scooter, too".
We all remember Scooter. Who I loooooved. He who was going to help me break down my issues with my therapist. Perfect. And of course, he who is always busy, is readily available to drink with us now.
"Where are you going dressed like that" was the first thing he said when he saw me.
Our mutual friend who started this happy hour, Jake, says "She's going on a blind date, she'll probably get murdered later. We're going to drink before she ends up on the news".
About 1/2 of my watermelon martini in, the boys, the bartenders, and 95% of the patrons at this establishment were aware I was going on a date with a rich guy that I'd never even seen a picture of, courtesy of a match maker.
And they ALL thought I was nuts.
I told Scooter this would be my first time drinking while on my head meds again, too. I honestly think he was genuinely worried about me. And I caught him staring at me a few times. I'm joking that I looked like a hooker. I actually looked every classy in my high heels, and black pencil skirt, and a beige camisole top. My makeup was perfect. My hair was in messy waves because of the humidity. I wished I was just staying with Scooter at the bar. And almost said I'd be happy when he asked "What would you do if I walked into the restaurant you're meeting this dude at and just sat at the bar to keep an eye on you, make sure you're ok?". Sigh.
So ... off I went. A martini down the hatch to relax me and I wasn't nervous as I headed into Boston.
I got there and group texted those concerned parties of Jake, Scooter, and two of my friends to let them know I arrived safe. I got a "run, run while you can" and some "good lucks", "can't wait to hear about it". Then a note from Roy: "In case you don't look like your pictures, I am in a black leather jacket, dark jeans, and shaved head".
Shaved head. Instantly I wanted to leave. That always means bald. Not that bald is bad. But my imagine in my mind of him looking like Dr. McDreamy just flew out my car window.
I had beat him there, so in I went to sit at the bar and await my fate. 3 minutes later, and in he walked.
Age appropriate was ... 57. I was expecting a little older than me, maybe 40. I'm 35. I don't consider 57 age appropriate. I knew there would be no spark. He also wasn't as tall as I thought he was. He was nice though. And we chatted about travel and music and he didn't ask me to pay for dinner like other dates have. I was thinking of other friends he might be appropriate for. But I think he wants to date the youngin's like me. The whole time I was sitting with him, I could hear my phone in my bag going off. When he went to the bathroom I glanced down ... 51 text messages. Mostly group chat stuff but a couple sweet ones from Scooter telling me to be open to shaved heads and to be careful.
After the date everyone was sad to hear it wasn't going to be a fairy tale ending for the Millionaire Matchup. I was ok. I was kind of proud I did it and didn't chicken out. Which I could have done and months ago probably would have.
Weird how life changes. Drinking with an old flame before a date with a new guy. Realizing your friends love you and your crazy ass life stories. Even right now -- one of my other best friends who's so busy with a demanding job, little baby, brother getting married - she remembered and is "dying to know how last night went". <3
Lessons Learned:
- Life is crazy.
- You never know what tomorrow will bring.
- You can go from heart broken to being real friends with your ex in less than 5 months.
- Shaved heads usually means bald.
- Friends are priceless, and they're the real soul-mates.
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