Ships Ahoy! Blind Date overboard!

There is a saying, that one should never judge a book by its cover. I don’t know where it started or indeed who keeps passing it down from generation to generation giving it an air of authority and probability by association of age. But I’m a recent convert to the diametrically opposite adage of ‘go with your gut instincts’. If I had, I’d have buttoned back up my coat and flicked my scarf over my shoulder as a symbolic white flag to Mother Nature that I surrender to spinsterhood.

But curse my sense of convention and deference to politeness, two of the very few sacrosanct tenets bestowed from my parents, inherited no doubt from one of the Saturday night popular TV show they themselves paid particular homage to with unswerving worship.

Minutes waited as the clock hands dangled like fisherman’s line. I drew breath, as he looked at me and I blinked back. What a long day it’s been I thought even though it had only been 1.5 minutes. He clearly didn’t hear the prison doors being swung closed behind me with a stereotypical echoing slam, because he was still smiling. It gave me a notion that he must be deaf and with characteristic optimism I unrealistically hoped he’d be dumb too. A savage stick poked me from behind my own eyes, as a voice in my head chuckled ‘be careful what you wish for’. Sometimes I really don’t like my vivid imagination. The clouds were darkening. Oh yes there was a storm brewing and I had a sinking feeling that l was woefully ill-equipped to weather this particular storm.

“Hi I’m Tony. Anthony, but people call me Tony. You can call me Tony” he said ejecting his hand at me. Mustn’t say what I want to say. Must keep bad thoughts to myself - Must be nice - Must be NICE. I flashed a wide closed lipped smile back at him, keeping my tongue and teeth firmly in check and eventually the hysteria melted enough for me to blurt out ‘Ellie’ and bobbed in a very unnatural bow. In my head it was a suave move to avoid touching Tony, a silky feminine misdirection which would go unnoticed, but it looked more like reality had kicked me in the shins and I was socially crippled.

Having earned my socially inept title early on, my subconscious is on a mission to retain it. “So, it’s Tony, right?” I clarified after we were shown to our table. By the blank look on his face he didn’t even have a sense of humour for me to fall back on. The clock judged me cruelly by refusing to tick time, as bless him, Tony made allowances. Unlike me he’d come prepared with random conversation topics and sensing my apparent lack of preparation he took the helm and began steering me into the unchartered waters of trains and airshows. I glanced at the clock. Five minutes? What? That can’t be right. It must’ve stopped. “That can’t be right” I mumbled aloud.

As I was looking over in the general direction of the bar, Tony assumed that I was referring to the inattentive service and keen to maintain his claim to the honourable high ground, he started to windmill his arms around in a distressed manner. He reminded me of a kid I went to school with called Andrew Buchanan. Smartest person at our school including many of the teachers, but given the location and social status of our school that wasn’t really as impressive an accolade as it sounds. Highest gesticulator? Yikes that’s even worse. My mind was off again and I wondered if Andrew now introduced himself as ‘Hi, I’m Andy. Andrew, but people call me Andy. You can call me Andy’. I couldn’t help but smile and count my blessings that I wasn’t called Mandy. If I had been so ill fortuned, I doubt introductions would’ve been the same after meeting Tony. Hey at least I was smiling now. Hooray for arm shaped lifebuoys. Actually, to hell with keeping afloat, I needed rescuing.

Reacting to Tony’s subtle plea, a straw approached… I mean the waiter. And I clutched desperately. ‘Wine. Wine please’ I whined and hoped he could read my mind like I had the menu. I stared wide eyed up at him as he dutifully scribbled my order being placed by Tony, who had apparently decided what I’d like to eat.

I mornfully watched my chance of escape dwindle with ever step the waiter took back to his station before turning to look back at Tony. “Is it me or is it getting hot in here”, he quipped leaning forward. Misreading sexual arousal in my fear dilated pupils which were accentuated by my flush of indignation at being left behind by our waiter.

“I can tell you’re independent and passionate. I like a woman who respects herself. Something sexy about someone who’s not afraid to admit what she likes and then goes and gets it” he smears in an oily tone.

Oh my God, he was on a roll he and went on until I was feeling crushed from wearing his attention like a snowsuit whilst ploughing my own, through his gritted vapidity. If only I had some smooth words to skim over the mounds for a guaranteed homerun, but my whole vocabulary had gotten early release and were off on parole. My ears were incarcerated with me and this served to clear the way for his relentless advances. And advance he did. On and on to the same march as…. What was that? Sounds like a choir raining somewhere ‘Onwards Christian soldiers’ and I swear I could hear a tambourine. I couldn’t be sure because the low lighting was reflecting off his wind chaffed brow and distorted my view. But no amount of temporary blindness was saving me from his leering eyes which crept over my skin. Jabbing like a hundred million hailstones. The song was building to a crescendo.

I needed to distract my mouth so I pick up the salt seller and twiddle nervously. Its one eye gaped at me like it had all the answers but was keeping schtum. If I stared hard enough I felt sure that I’d find a way to make it squeal. I stared into the vent like it’s some sort of crucible, trying to spot something meaningful inside it. But it was too difficult this close up and the white noise dripping from Tony was making it hard to concentrate. Life is a story best told in the present. But this current present wasn’t a story I wanted to narrate nevermind live in. Left with no choice I surrender.

“So”, I interrupted with authority giving Tony the benefit of my full focus for the first time so far. “I’m the sort of woman who gets what she wants heh? “ Our gazes lock, I raised an enquirying eyebrow. Tony swallowed hard and his blackening eyes answer for his mouth. A wicked smile danced over my lips and I saw him now the one caught on the clock hands. “You, are a very perceptive man”, I purred. Leaning forward I rose to my feet, freed myself and my coat and holding my handbag like a get out of jail free card I walk with purpose out the restrauant door. Happy I love you day, I whisper to myself.