Punk Princess (pun_princess) wrote in india_writing,
Punk Princess

Blind Date

“That’s it!” Nick exclaimed.

This is Nick for you, forever pompous. Sometimes I wonder whether it is sane of me to seek advice from him. But he’s a close enough buddy and after a few drags together, he actually gets me talking. Considering how he always manages to get swarmed by gals and his life is bereft of any emotional drama - well almost, he is definitely the best man I know to play agony aunt for my... err… non existing personal relationships. 

“Look bro, this time the idea better be good” I told him flat on his face. I have had a series of disastrous events insinuated in my life by him as if he was Ekta Kapoor and I, some Saas-Bahu TV Soap which required a TRP hike every now and then.

“Just listen to it and you’ll feel like kissing me” he continued in his pompously, puckering up his lips.  

“Fat chance” I laughed out on him, then on my pitiable state. “I’d rather kiss a mule than you” I made a stab at him which I had to regret even before he finished retorting to mine. 

“Hey look. This is getting offensive dude. And if you remain stuck in guy circles all the time, in no time you’ll have no other option but to do that” Nick finished smirking, puffing up his chest like a proud lion.

“Ok. Fine. What’s the idea?” I was beginning to feel my face going red, wondering why I ever confided in Nick.  

He took his time knowing that I was waiting at his disposal. He slowly exhaled the smoke through his nose, something which always leaves me sick if I try. One has to agree, Nick’s got style. He simultaneously relived the idea he was holding back. “Go for a blind date”



"I can’t even think of going on a date with someone I know and a B-L-I-N-D  D-A-T-E?”

“Exactly, that is why! Even if you blow it, no one comes to know. I’m sure your blind date would be glad to forget it as well. It’s the least risk option you’ve got. Accept it dude, someday you got to get over your fears - school boy fears” he jeered at me once again.  

Well yeah! He put it all right. Those were my worst fears. Time and again I have wanted to ask a girl out. I don’t have to say that I didn’t manage to do it in past 24 years.  

With days passing over monotonous guy talks, more I thought about Nick’s idea it started making sense to me. I didn't wish to be the guy with a clean past - read failed at arranging love, hence perfect arranged marriage material. I didn't wish to be a Mr.I-have-no-secrets either. I didn't wish to be a stud with a good grades, good job, fat pay check and no girl. I had my commitments towards my raging hormones too.

I decided upon a Blind Date agency called DOVE, brought to my knowledge by Nick. He couldn't have chosen any agency with a worse cliché tagline. Find your true love - go for a Blind Date through Dove, that is what the agency professed. I wondered if along with their ostentatious and audacious promise of true love there came a money return policy.

I filled out the form honestly, keeping all pretensions at bay, going for extremely general qualities in the section meant for my dream date. The only particular trait that I mentioned sheepishly was that I had a special liking for the Chinky Babes. I owe it to the several Korean movies that I saw while still in hostel, when all of my friends used to go out with their dates.



So, I was finally awaiting my blind date in a fairly expensive restaurant. I wanted to put a good first impression after all, because there was hardly any chance of a second date if this one didn’t go well. Still nothing could stop me feeling upbeat about it. Maybe their tagline really got to me. The visuals of my perfect date were running wild in my head - me sipping a vintage wine with a finely dressed up lady - looking into each other eyes – holding hands - yeah - it had to be love at first sight.

Yet after a while it’s just me left to a solitary misery, sipping orange juice minus vodka, for an eternity. I couldn’t stand the gloomy restaurant anymore and decided on taking off my Ray-bans if my date didn’t arrive in another 5 minutes. You see, I was hoping the sunglasses would hide my squinty eyes and accentuate my high bridged nose for my date to notice. 

After countless shifty glances towards the entrance and then the folks surrounding me, combing for my date through semi darkness, I took the Ray-bans off and stared at the entrance starkly. Yet, there was to be no sign of my date.

The restaurant was packed by now. And it was well past 1 hour of the stipulated time. I started looking more carefully at the singles occupying the tables. There weren’t many and just two girls. Neither of them fit the description I was told about. She would be wearing a mauve coloured shirt and a white skirt, I was told for identification. And from her details I knew she had straight jet black hair, black eyes and was of north-eastern part of the country. Hence, she was expected to bear resemblance to the Chinky babes. I went up to the reception and confirmed whether I was shown the right table for the rendezvous with the stranger. 

As I was returning back to my table, totally dejected , wondering if my date had a look at me and slipped out quietly,  I saw a slender figure with jet black shoulder length hair. Solitary and seated diagonally opposite to me in another corner of the restaurant.


I sat silently observing. Black shoulder length sleek hair – a cool jacket which fluttered slightly to reveal a mauve coloured silk shirt underneath – wait - roll back – yes, it was a mauve coloured shirt all right - maybe Versace -looked like designer stuff– next - white trousers – what on earth was she thinking? – Shoes, definitely Marco Ricci – pointed at the top and were slightly lifted indicating a slight heel in the end – hmm - I was kind of impressed – she chose classy over junk that girls wear these days. Then the face slid out from behind the newspaper– JEEZ – a Chinky face!

My legs threw my butt off the chair and I realised my feet were taking me to her.

“Hello! May I join you?” I had said even before I realised what I was doing.

She simply nodded. I wished she would have spoken a few words. I pulled out one of the chairs and sat down. I decided she was shy and probably it’s her first blind date too who knows maybe THE first date. I immediately started visualising scenes where two shy loners fall in love so deep that they don’t care about anyone else in their life. EVER. While she was engrossed reading the novel – an Erich Segal, I took in all the details. She had neatly plucked eyebrows, soft eyes, gloss on her lips and nails. Her the delicate feminine perfume made me insane.

Though, once again her ensemble seemed a little odd. I mean who would wear such an ensemble for a date? I would have preferred a little more feminine date though the jackets were cut slim - the shirt fitted - only if the hint of bosom would have been apparent from beneath the jackets but then she was too slim. I silently chastised myself for being so prudish and judgemental, and maybe vulgar too for thinking such.

I didn’t realise I had been staring for long. So, when she looked up from the novel and caught my eye, I tried to smile abruptly.

“I was waiting for my date. Blind date you know. She hasn’t turned up yet. Are you waiting for some one too?”  shooting her a hint and breaking away from her awkward glance.

She once again nodded and smiled at me, leaving behind a pregnant pause as if the wait bothered her too. By then time the food she ordered had arrived.

I felt assured by her reply and especially her perturbedness. She was waiting for someone too. She had to be my date. Everything was okay, almost. Is this how first dates go?

The waiter looked up at me. “Anything for you sir?” he asked almost threateningly. I felt like shoving the half finished orange juice left on my table down his nose. Besides I had lost my appetite and she had ordered a lot too much. I had doubts whether she would be able to finish all of that, she seemed so frail and I didn’t want MY money to be wasted. Period.

I waited to see if she would ask me to join her. The waiter was practically blazing me with his hard stare so without further ado I ordered a blue cheese pizza with dried tomatoes, portobello mushrooms.

She picked up the forks and suavely got down to eating without a word. But oh my….what speed! She didn’t offer me anything. It felt cruel. After all it was me who was going to pay. For a moment I even thought of going back to my table. The thought vanished as soon as it came, I delved back in my magazine, lest she thought of me as a greedy hungry hog staring at her.

By the time my pizza arrived [which was pretty quick if you ask me] she was finished with her three course meal. Not even an olive was spared. When she gestured towards the waiter to bring along the bill, I knew it was now or never. I had to ask her clearly about the blind date thing. In no way I was going to pay for this stupid date. I had already begun contemplating murder of Nick and suing the Agency.  Love my foot. I’ll shoot their stupid dove too.


Before I could say something, she spoke, “looks like your date isn’t gonna turn up” in booming male voice I wasn’t expecting at all! She err HE continued, “Neither did mine. Is it a your-date–won't-turn-up day or something?” HE laughed off sardonically.

I smiled weakly. The debacle was over atleast.

“But a blind date huh? Mine was with MY girlfriend. We had a tiff sometime back. Thought I’d make up with her in this fancy little restaurant, though I chose this because someone told me the food over here is great." He winked and then continued, "Still it was her loss, ain’t it? Mind you I went through all this trouble to look good for her. Shabby, she swore at me last time. Thought I’d show her. Three shaves in one day, got a face massage and eyebrows done. On top of that manicure and stuff. Even wore her favourite blueberry perfume. Thought she’d notice. She’d love it. She’d know that I love her.”, he finished with a pained expression on his face.

“Hard luck mate.” I empathised truly.

The waiter placed the bill. He slipped in his credit card.

“Yeah. She’ll realise her mistake soon though”, he pulled out a cigar and smelled it fondly and then continued, “You’re lucky dude. Till the time you ain’t got a chick to tell you what you should do, how you should live your life, life’s smooth. It’s for good your blind date didn’t turn up”. He indulged himself in a long drag.

Unfortunately I wasn’t feeling so. And I wasn’t feeling too good about the fact that he thought I had no previous relationships. Was it that obvious?

“Well this blind date was arranged by my pal. You see I was grieving from my break up with my girlfriend. He wanted to liven up things for me.”

“Oh! Good again that you broke up buddy. You are on your own now, free to do as you wish.” replied the chinky guy.

Yes, I was little too free. It would do me a little good to have someone caring about me and mine, add a dash of colour in my moronic black and white life. I was once again beginning to wallow in self pity inside my head.

He cleared his throat as if some thoughts were stuck down there and he wished to puke. The waiter had returned his credit card. I felt he was striving hard to sound casual. 

“I hope this isn’t a sign that my girl is leaving. You would know, right?” He blurted out, leaning close to me. Alarm spelled all over his face.

“What sign?” it was my turn to play the cool dude.

“About agreeing to a date and not turning up”, he was even more agitated now. Huh! Who cared? A while ago I heard him say 'good for you' twice for not having a girl in my life. I didn’t even have one and I’d bother about someone else’s GF? A sadist you might call me, but I found my share of fun was sitting right opposite to me.

“At this stage I’d say it’s all over dude. I  could pretty much assess your situation from the moment I saw you sitting here all by yourself.” I said feeling smug. I love playing the omniscient Love Guru.

“I don’t think there’s much hope left with your GF now”, it felt so good to play a role in screwing someone else’s life. I finished with élan for the Mr.look-I-am-so-cool-I-have-a-gf.

He looked at me bewildered. Shocked. Suddenly he stood up and shook my hands briskly. “I got to go.” he said. “And thanks really.” he continued hurrying out of the restaurant. 

Well a single guy’s life is not always that drab you know. Who but we get to encash the golden moments to mock at  guys with kitties wrapped around their arms!

Tags: blind date, chinky girls, chinky guy, fiction, girlffriend, short story

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