Page 6 of Accidental Blind Date
She’s nice enough so it’s not too difficult, despite feeling the overwhelming urge to crawl under the table. “My name is Madeline. What can I get you to drink?”
“A gin and tonic. Please.”
“Do you want a regular one or the house?”
“What’s the difference?” I ask curiously.
“The house has muddled fruit in it.”
“Oh, I’ll take one of those!” I smile. Because I don’t do anything plain. Being a little excentric has always been my MO. It’s why the whole bookstore owner vibe suits me so well. I’m quirky to say at the least.
“I got you. Are you waiting on someone?” she asks.
“I am. A date. Not a boyfriend though. It’s a blind date. From a dating app. I never do this…” The words come spewing out of me and my cheeks flush before I let out a nervous giggle.
“I see. Well, that’s exciting.”
“Yeah…or something. You know…I haven’t been on a date since I got divorced. Back when my ex and I got married, online dating wasn’t as popular as it is now.”
“The old days were golden, weren’t they?” she asks and I laugh, loud and unapologetic because that’s also just kind of who I am.
“Now you have to match with someone and then figure out what they’re looking for. I don’t even know what I’m looking for to be honest.”
“I don’t think a lot of people do, love,” she says, and I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse. “Just…see how it goes. And whatever you feel like doing at the end of the night…do it.”
“Do it,” I repeat. “Just…whatever that is?”
“Whatever that is,” she says as she shoves her pen back in her apron. “You wanna say goodbye forever and move on? No shame. You wanna snag a hotel room and forget who you are for an evening? No shame in that either. The nice thing about the golden era being dead?” she leans in a little, “Double standards died with it.”
I smile. I like her. She’s real.
But I’m still nervous as hell.
Because honestly? I’m not really interested in getting laid.
Which is probably half the reason I would rather barf on the chips and three kinds of salsa than eat them right now.
Because isn’t it kind of implied that on a first dating app date, that you hook up?
I don’t know these things.
I got married young. Too young.
And we didn’t sleep together until we were married.
Oh, the naivety.
I pull the app back up on my phone and click on my matches. There’s only one because even with Joni’s help, I wasn’t just going to swipe right every time a hot guy popped up. Swiping right means you’re a bitch unless you talk to them and I’m not really ready for that kind of responsibility.
I also don’t believe in accepting drinks from randos at a bar either.
In other words…I have no idea what I am doing. Which is most likely the culprit of feeling very unprepared right now.
Jax’s profile consists of literally one photo. It’s black and white. He’s standing with his back to the camera (red flag number one), his arms braced on a banister of some kind, his head turned to the side, giving the camera only a silhouette of his actual face (red flag number two). It’s hard to tell his body type from the angle and lighting but if I had to guess- he’s a gym bro. That, and the number of red flags just listed, makes my stomach sour a little.
Shane cared about nothing more than the gym. He also weighed thirty pounds less than me because he eats nothing but canned tuna and sauteed tofu. Oh, and kale. So. Much. Kale.
I set my phone face down and cover my face with my hands.
