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I was a little nervous. My blind date was waiting for me and I had driven a brief 15 to 20 minutes to meet her. There wasn’t any real reason to be worried, after all she sounded nice on the telephone and she had told me all about herself. Her name was Janice. She was a redhead, how enticing, a fiery redhead. She enjoyed music and played guitar. How many great songs could we make together. She had her own place and the same job for 5 years. And now we would meet. My heart pounded as I rounded the last turn to meet the girl of my dreams.
There at the bus stop stood an arguably feminine creature of remarkable stature and girth. Her hair was red alright, only the word “red” fell short of describing this color known not to any artist’s pallet or flower on Earth. No, this red conjured up images of road flares and rocket exhaust leaving fire engines and even Rudolph himself to pale in comparison. She was as tall as a tree and far wider in the middle than at either end.
I found my foot applying pressure to the brake and before I could correct this horrific action my vehicle had come to rest and she who would be etched most unwillingly into my memory as the “Bozo Bigfoot” was hunching her way into the cab of my truck. The passenger compartment of my Dodge Ram Pickup was the largest available at the time and yet the seat belt could not encompass her ample trunk. She held it nonchalantly in place a full six inches shy of its intended destination.
She had Marty Feldman eyes that starred back at me like two jumbo eggs barely contained by their sockets. Her expression could only be described as stunned, probably because I was the first to actually stop. And so I went where no man had gone before to a small diner a short distance away.
Jennibozosquatch alternated between slurping at her coffee and chain smoking with an impressive suction which drew her face in and making those oversized orbs seem even more so. I drew stares from the restaurant staff like this was an episode of the Twilight Zone and I must escape now or be forever imprisoned in this netherworld of freaks and fantastic outcomes.
Still I saw it through. I made the small talk paid the check and reluctantly escorted my date to my vehicle in broad daylight. Always a gentleman, I opened the door for her and as she entered what had seemed until this day the ample cab of my truck, to my horror I witnessed hair on her ankles matched only by that of orangutans, perhaps her not so distant cousins.
Blind date blind date Is this my fate Not knowing where my heart is going Who will I meet Will they have great big feet And hair from their nostrils a flowing
Will I know the reason Love is never in season And all of my fears come true Why must my suitors Need etiquette tutors And look like they belong in a zoo
Oh Lord bring to me The one that I see In my dreams and in couples so happy All the joy I have missed And so I persist Why is my love life so crappy
Sound familiar? Welcome to the wonderful world of Blind Dating!
I believe that most of us long for meaningful companionship. While companionship itself is abundant, productive
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