Blind dates are not really my thing. The awkward forced set up is just a recipe for blog material.  But when my best friend from college begged to set me up with one of her boyfriend’s friends who she knew pretty well and had nothing but great things to say about I figured what the hell… I’ll try almost anything once.  She gave him my number and we chatted on the phone a couple of times, getting comfortable enough to then set a date to meet.

The Bronx Bomber picked me up in Time Square (being that I lived all the way in Brooklyn and he was from the Bronx, Manhattan just seemed like the logical point to meet).  I hoped in his car and he was just as hot as my friend said, and apparently he thought so too since right after our “hi, how are you’s” he gave me his modeling portfolio to look at… “Umm ok, yea that’s definitely your good side.” 20 minutes and 40 pages later, I looked up and realized that we were driving 100mph with the volume blasting at 95 hoping on the highway towards the Bronx.  I screamed over, “Where are we headed?” He replies, “I need to stop by my place and pick up something. Didn’t think you mind a quick stop before we head out.”

Sure, what’s a little detour before our night out…

We get to his place, and of course I go inside because there’s no way in hell I’m waiting in his car at 8pm like a sitting duck just asking to be mugged.  And after 45 minutes of sitting around while he rummages through stuff, blasts some more music, makes a drink and seems to make himself very comfortable on the couch next to me, I start to realize that this fool has nothing planned. “So, where are we off to next” I ask.  "Oh I figured we go check out this CD shop I like near by", says The Bronx Bomber. WTF?!?! Did I just travel what feels like across country for some High school “let’s hang” shit! This is when the headache starts to kick in. So I get up and play along with this whole visit to the CD shop deal to get the ball moving and us up and out of his house.  

As we’re walking out, I get a call from my grandmother in which I take promptly (anything to not to deal with this do nothing go nowhere “date”) My darling grandmother just called to see how I was and just to update me on the news that one of our dogs had just died.  After hanging up, The Bronx Bomber was kind enough to ask if everything was okay since I sounded a bit upset… Wait maybe there is hope yet for him, sweet of him to ask and seem concerned. Then when I share with him that my dog had just died, his reply was “Damn, what they fed that dog?” Followed by a huge burst of laughter.  Yea this date is over…  This is where I break the news to him that I’m not feeling well and should probably just skip the CD shop. He seems genuinely disappointed but seems to understand. So he makes an abrupt u-turn from the direction we were headed and stops short at a random local train stop down a dark alley that appears to be abandoned. Really?!?! You couldn’t have dropped me off back where you met me in Manhattan at least. I jumped out of the car just as quickly as he made that u-turn and yelled “don’t call me, I’ll call you” as I ran down into the train station.  

Thankfully I made it home safely to live to tell you this story…. Clearly there wasn’t a second date.  Some time after this, I’m watching MTV’s reality show, G’s to Gents, where they take a bunch of hooligans and try to turn them into gentleman, and guess who pops up on the show, The Bronx Bomber himself.

Why am I not surprised. SMH