The blind leading the blind date on July 20, 1998…
Dear Breakup Girl,
Several years ago a close friend set me up with her boyfriend’s older brother. Since she’d asked me very recently after New Year’s Eve — and my resolution was to “be more adventurous” — I accepted. I went out with this guy for about one month, this includes four dates. I discovered that not only did we not just hit it off — but he has some serious psychological problems. (He’d tried to kill himself three months before we met — this story ended our fourth date). ( To make it worse, I later discovered that she knew all about his little history, and set me up with him anyway.)
I broke up with him ver-ry gently, telling him I just didn’t have time for a relationship. He then sent me letters, underwear, called my mother, my boss — this went on for about a year and a half.
Badly shaken, I told the story to other friends. A friend offered to set me up with a guy she knew and only liked as a friend. I went out on three dates with him and just got the feeling that he was, well — a little too rigid. Like once he picked me up and twirled me around in the air (I think he thought he was being romantic, but I weigh like 180 pounds and I was more nervous about falling from the sky like a lead balloon). When I complained, he refused to put me down. I don’t like a guy who doesn’t listen who you say no, and I took it as a bad sign for the future. I don’t know, I just didn’t feel comfortable around him. I broke up with him, again politely. He freaked out, screaming “Someone tell me what is wrong with me? Why do I get this from every girl?!” My next door neighbor had to remove him. He sat outside my house in his car for like an hour. I don’t know what he was doing, but he just sat there. Creepy.
The problem? Well, both guys are gone now. The “friend” from the first story is as gone as someone you live across the street from. The second “friend” I just don’t run into very much. The problem is I just do not want to get back on the roller coaster ride. I mean, there is no way to know how safe you are out there. You’d figure through a friend — or through someone you thought was your friend – that you would be pretty safe. I just do not want to get out there.
Other than become a hermit, and get a battery recharger — what am I supposed to do? I’m twenty nine years old, have plenty of hobbies, a heavy reading habit and two very spoiled cats.
Okay, yeah, those ARE really bad. REALLY bad. As in, “not funny” bad.
Also not funny: tired jokes about blind dates (except the one where Chris@breakupgirl.net says,”they’re called ‘blind’ on account of you wind up being led around by a dog”). We’ve all heard the plaintive cry of the set-up-ee: “THIS is what my friends think of me?!” And in this case, all I can fathom is that your friends may have thought, “Well, he is a little … eccentric — but she’s cool and open-minded and insightful enough to see him for who he is.” That’s the best I can do. I am NOT defending their judgment — HELLO!?! — I’m just trying to help you see that you may not need to take their care-/clue-lessness as an insult. Nor as a hint that you should join the circus.
Which, as you say, is pretty much what you feel like doing. I mean, you’re right: there is no way to know how safe you are out there. Of course you’re reeling from the Stalker, not to mention the Twirler. And if you don’t feel like dating for a while, then fine, don’t. Give yourself a cat- and book-filled breather. But heck — to toss out a piece of wisdom about as tired as blind-date jokes, yet apt nonetheless — there’s no way to know how safe you are when you’re crossing the street; what are you gonna do, not leave the house? Plus I bet that pretty much every guy reading this is thinking, “What a heinous, insane, out-of-the-ordinary pair of experiences! God forbid a nice girl like that should think I’m a weird guy like that?!” They’re out there. The good ones.
So, unless there’s some invisible freak-seeking device implanted in your past/.your neck, which I don’t think there is, chalk this one up to rotten luck. There’s really nothing more inspired for me to say there than: that SUCKED. It’s in the past. Try again. Without a little help from your friends.