Why Blind Dates should be used by the U.S. Government as Torture Devices

Give me waterboarding over a blind date any day. There is literally nothing that instills more dread or fear in me. Big exam coming up? Piece of cake. Snake in the backyard? No worries. Blind date? No, not that! ANYTHING BUT THAT! 

First and foremost, there is so much pressure that comes from the person who set you up. They want you to like each other so bad it physically hurts them. You almost feel obligated to marry the person on the spot because your friend (or if you’re really lucky, your mom) is so invested in you two as a couple already, and anything less than marriage would be letting them down. The person who sets you up always says things like “He’s the male version of you!” or “You two would make such a cute couple!” First of all, I do not want to date the male version of me. Me with a penis sounds like a terrible combination. And second, whether or not we would make a cute couple is irrelevant. Romeo and Juliet made a cute couple and look how that turned out for them. What’s worse is that your friend tells you all these things about the person they’re setting you up with ahead of time so that when you go on your blind date, you already know the person’s background information and you feel like a creep. I mean, in all likelihood you’re a creep anyway because we all know you stalked him on Facebook ahead of time, but that’s different. You just had to see what he looked like so you would know who to look for in the restaurant. It was just an accident when you happened to look through all 637 of his pictures and all of his wall posts back through 2011. 

As if the buildup isn’t bad enough, the blind date itself is probably to most awkward encounter of the entire human experience. When should you get there…before him or after him? What should you wear, something casual or something sexy? Who pays? And what the heck are you supposed to talk about?? More often than not the conversation starts out with stories about your mutual friend. After all, that is the only thing that you know you have in common. Then typically the conversation shifts to something neutral and impersonal, like the weather or the menu. And sprinkled in between are those cute (and by cute I mean awful) little breaks in conversation that only last about 10 seconds but that feel like 100 years. Neither of you makes eye contact so you just find yourself scanning your surroundings and making some dumb comment about how the bus boy kind of looks like the chunky kid from The Goonies. 

Obviously you can’t order what you would normally order because you don’t want him to think you’re a fatty and you don’t want something that’s going to be messy and hard to eat. You tone back your sarcasm because you know he won’t understand that it’s just your sense of humor, and you pretend like his jokes are funnier than they really are. You essentially change who you are for a blind date, but why? There is no foundation with that person; they’ve never seen you or talked to you before, but why does that mean that you can’t be yourself? Is your personality so potent that he wouldn’t be able to handle it, and if it is, how the heck do you have friends to set you up in the first place? 

The circumstances of a blind date make us so self-conscious and insecure that we make ourselves into what we think he wants. He mentions something about having gone to a baseball game last week, and suddenly you become a die-hard Red Sox fan. He makes a comment about not liking cilantro and you say you hate it too, even though it is the main ingredient in almost all of your favorite foods. But why? It just seems so silly to put on a façade for this person, for this guy you don’t even know. Why isn’t your real self good enough, and what happens if you go out with him again? Do you keep up the charade or do you start to reveal your idiosyncrasies little by little, only to confuse him and have him question your honesty? Here it is: if you go on a blind date, be you. You have nothing to lose. If it’s terrible, you’ll never have to see him again. If he hates you, you’ll never have to see him again. If you hate him, you never have to see him again. Be you and be proud, and he can take it or leave it. 

Speaking of leaving it, I forgot to mention the quintessential part of the blind date, and quite possibly the worst part; saying goodbye. If he likes you he’ll blubber something about wanting to see you again, and ask you for your number. Whew. That part wasn’t so hard. But it’s the after you give him your number part that’s the kicker. A hug goodbye is too personal, but a handshake is too formal. High fives and fist bumps are reserved for your fantasy football buddies, and if he even tries to give you a goodnight kiss, run far far away and don’t look back. I tend to choose a middle route and give him a little wave, then inch slowly towards my car until he gets the hint that the night is over. He should walk you to your car but he doesn’t need to open the door for you; he should only do that if he’s the one who drove. With any luck he’ll follow your lead and the night will end without too much bumbling or blundering.

Blind dates are horrendous. They are awkward and humiliating and nerve wracking. Whether or not you end up with the person you were set up with does not change the fact that the blind date is one of the lowest rungs on the ladder of human experiences. But here’s the thing: you might end up with the person you were set up with. So as awful as they are, give blind dates a chance, because you never know who you might meet. It is possible that your friend was right after all, and that you two do make a cute couple. If that’s the case, then your friend gets a place of honor at your wedding. If the date is not quite that successful, then you get to berate your friend and hold your horrible experience over their head for the rest of your lives. Either way, it’s a win-win.