Blind Date.

It’s a long, long time since my last blind date, but I just unearthed this anecdote from my memoirs, so thought I’d share my smiles. (with apologies to the nice little unknown man) Names changed to protect……….

BLIND DATE.

Over a cup of tea, she said, “Henry’s  a really nice chap. He’s been on his own for a while and would love some good company. Nothing serious, just someone to take out for a meal, or walk, just some company”.

What harm could there be. I’m a widow. My daughter- in -law has recommended him, and I too would like some company.

So we decided a game of golf would be a good place to start.

We were to meet at the golf club, so when I arrived, I unpacked my golf clubs and waited for him on the verandah, wondering what he’d look like.

My girlfriend was just about to leave, but her curiosity was too strong, so she waited with me. Suddenly, a dreadful rusty little Mini Minor came pelting up the driveway, and a funny little man sort of scuttled over to the Pro Shop, but  then hurried back and got into his car.

 I breathed a sigh of relief, and we were still giggling about the awful possibility, when to my horror, and my friend’s delighted disbelief, he emerged again and made his way towards us. Oh no, it WAS him!

He had no golf balls so I found half a dozen old ones, which he dropped into the deep recesses of his tiny little golf bag, slung it over his shoulder and followed me to the first tee. He sort of scuttled along, and for the rest of the 9 holes, seemed to spend an inordinate amount of time rummaging in his golf bag.

 I sensed his absence at one stage, and looked back to see him miles behind me, in the middle of a fairway, looking bewildered, with  the contents of his upturned golf bag strewn all over the grass.

 On the greens he would watch me putt my ball into the hole, and then either pick his ball up and put it in his pocket, or else take putt after putt, back and forth, over, alongside, beyond, behind, anywhere but in the hole.

There was no conversation, and he seemed too timid to even squeak. As we neared the Clubhouse, relief that it was nearly over turned into a new anxiety. Courtesy demanded that I take him in for a drink and to introduce him to other members. I couldn’t do it. No one could ask me to do it. Much too difficult.

Thinking desperately for a way out of this, as we neared the parking lot, I got an idea.

A startled male club member, quietly packing his car, backed away in shock as I threw myself at him, pretending to apologize for being so late.

The fact that this poor chap had never seen me before in his life, rendered him speechless, so we stood together for a moment while I waved goodbye to my “date”, who quickly disappeared down the driveway, in the little Mini Minor like a puff of smoke.

It was impossible to try to explain to my bewildered car park “saviour”. So I didn’t try.