Blind Date

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 07, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: October 07, 2016



As the sun was setting, the phone rang and I knew it was my mother ‘cause I was sitting on the toilet reading and she has a knack of always calling at the wrong time.

“Yes mother”, I said.

Then my mother proceeded to tell me why this day was different from all other days. It was my lucky day. It seems that her best friend, Mrs. Finkelstein, informed my mother that her niece from America, from America mind you, has come all the way to Israel and would love to meet me.

“Mom”, I said, “she doesn’t even know me, why do you say she’d love to meet me?”

“What a question” says my mother. “Mrs. Finkelstein doesn’t know you. Since you were two. She adores you, you’re like her own. She couldn’t think of a better catch for her niece. You two would make a lovely pair: made in heaven”.

It took me about two seconds, no, one was enough to know I was in real trouble. My mother began selling. “She’s a nice girl” which is about the worst thing she could have said. “She’s from a good family, she’s a real beauty, and they have plenty of money, in dollars mind you.”

“Did you see her”, I inquired.

“No, but would Mrs. Finkelstein lie? You know she tells it like it is. What Mr. Bigshot, you’re so busy you can’t even meet a lovely girl? It’s better to eat alone? How can it hurt? Have dinner and for once be a mensch. Do you always have to say no? You really love to hurt me, don’t you? What do I ask? For you to be happy and marry a nice girl. For yourself, not for me. Is that a crime? What do you want, what more can you ask for? She’s made in heaven. “

Mother won again. The date was set up by my two agents, mother and Mrs. Finkelstein. Believe me, I’m not too crazy about formal dates but blind dates are second to brain surgery. So I do my thing; put on a pair of clean Levi’s, search for a clean shirt, and the best I could do was to wear the one airing out from yesterday, and with no socks, the Air Jordans.

I walked up the stairs, rang the doorbell, with knees shaking, and my heart beating a bit faster anticipating the worst. I heard footsteps coming to the door, the removal of the latch, and before the door was fully open my worst fears were proven right. I was speechless because my only thought was to strangle my mother and figure out a way to kill Mrs. Finkelstein.

Now with dinner expected, my immediate problem was where. Surely no restaurant I knew, or more correctly, no restaurant where anyone knew me. I must say, I’m not religious but I always believed that the good Lord was just. He would give everyone something. But this girl from America, He simply missed. The more she talked the less I heard. I knew the words but couldn’t figure out what she was saying. All through dinner she kept making noise. The restaurant on Sheinkin wasn’t bad and the evening wasn’t a total loss. The salad was okay, the chair comfortable, there was a slight breeze on the patio, she didn’t eat much, and the girl at the next table had great tits.

© Copyright 2018 Lenny Lowengrub. All rights reserved.

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