#OneLoveStory Blocked

It’s a blind date (or the version of blind dates that exist in 2016).

It’s the first time the girl is meeting the guy. Girl in pink pants, golden shoes.

Guy: You’re flamboyant

Girl rolls her eyes. You’re judgemental. She thinks to herself.

Guy: Wow, that’s a designer watch you’re wearing. You like watches?

Girl: Yes, I do.

Guy: I like watches too. I have a 111 in my collection.

Wait a sec, she thinks. 111? What sort of number is that? Not 100. Not 120. 111? Do you smuggle them? Must not say that out loud, she catches herself, just in time.

Girl: You don’t look your age. You seem much older than your pictures.

Guy: Really? I’m just tired.

5 minutes later..

Guy: You have a lot of wrinkles. I can count five of them.

Girl stares at the guy in absolute horror. Wrinkles!

Girl, to me, later: “Do I have wrinkles?”

I laugh. “No, you do not. A) Because they don’t exist. What exist are called laugh lines. B) I’m sitting next to you, and I don’t see them, in broad daylight. He can’t have seen something that isn’t there, in muted lighting, in a restaurant, from the other side of the table”

Guy: I’m a half and half. My mother is half-Chinese, half-Japanese. My father is half-Mexican, half-West Indian.

So how does that make you half and half? She wonders. Makes you a quarter of everything.

Guy: So you see, I have two names. I’m Juan and Jin. But feel free to call me John. That’s what my friends call me.

This is beginning to get just a little but creepy, she thinks.

Guy: I’m quite comfortably settled you know. I have a maid who is devoted to me and has been working exclusively for me for 15 years.

Hey! Don’t talk about your wife like that! Oh oh. Did I just think he has a wife? Why would I think something like that? The girl is horrified at her own chain of thoughts.

Guy: I want to marry a girl who will wake up for me at 4 in the morning, if I ask her to, and cook something special for me. And I absolutely need her to be kinky in bed. So, for marriage, I have you to consider, this other girl called Alba, and then there are always these apps I use to meet women.

Whoa! Marry? I thought this was a date. First one! What a line to get me to his place. Or come to mine. Shit! Get out of here. Get out of here now.

Guy: I’ll just be back in a minute. Gotta pee.

Gotta pee? Well, what else would someone do after 13 pegs of scotch in two hours! The girl contemplates sneaking out. The kind of sneaking you do, holding your shoes in your hands (golden shoes, in this case) and tiptoe out. “Don’t try that”, I laugh, when the girl calls me in the middle of the guy’s pee break. “He’ll spot your golden shoes a mile away”. “How can you be laughing!” her distressed voice screeches at me.

Guy: Let me drop you home.

Consider me dropped, she thinks.

Girl: Thanks for offering. My uber ride is already here.

Shakes hands with the guy. Exits gracefully.

Shuts the cab door, fishes out her phone, blocks him on whatsapp. Texts me. “I blocked him.”

Doesn’t help that she forgot to block him from her calling list. He calls an hour later. “Oh my god! What a nightmare!” she screams.

Now, of course, he is blocked for good.


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