the blind date

They say that no good deed goes unpunished. I’m starting to think that no bad deed goes unpunished either.

Even if that bad deed seemed funny at the time.

I had to waste an entire Saturday at a wedding, all because I couldn’t resist a bit of the ol’ “two can play at that game.”

The that game I refer to will take a little explanation and might, just might, put in me a less than flattering light. Long story short, a friend of mine asked if I knew anyone I could set up her friend with. The only hiccup was that her friend was blind. “So don’t tell him. It will serve him right if he doesn’t enjoy a date just because the woman is blind” she retorted.

It was the note of disgust in her voice that inspired me to comply.

So I set her friend up with someone.

A blind guy.

A blind date between two people that were both blind. Neither of which knew the other one was blind. Those of you without sin cast the first stone, but I found out where they were meeting and I booked a reservation as well.

I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

Hence the less than flattering light I mentioned earlier. In retrospect, probably a bit of a dick move but I thought if nobody saw me there it would be no repercussions.

These days people say they are ‘legally blind’ but they can see just fine. Not these two. They were both full-on blind. They entered moment’s apart, white canes in hand, and soon they were talking to different maître d’s trying to explain who they were supposed to be meeting. Both were saying “No. I’m blind, not my date” and gesturing wildly. I was about to burst.

Finally, after the two maître d’s finally caught each other’s eye it was all sorted out and the two blind people were led to their table. The looks on their faces made all the effort worthwhile. I could almost hear my smug friend saying “It will serve them right if they don’t enjoy the date because the other one is blind.”

I was in eavesdropping heaven. I could even stare all I wanted. It might have been the best hour of my life, hearing them stumble around the inevitable question of “So… what do you look like?” Which, of course, translates to “So… which of us is getting the better deal?”

There were times it was all I could do not to run over and interrupt them with a quick physical recap. Truth was, they were both decent looking so nobody was really getting away with anything (Sorry if you feel I should have given you a spoiler-alert there).

But I couldn’t say anything. I wasn’t supposed to be there.

I’ve never really seen blind people eat. It was rather disappointing. I assumed that glasses would constantly be getting knocked over and silverware dropped, but none of that occurred.

Around the time they ordered dessert I realized that they were getting along. I felt like the Grinch when the Whos started singing despite not getting any presents. Although, in fairness, my heart remained the same size. I longed to see a blind person storm out of the restaurant. The absolute destruction that would be left in their wake. Like a mini hurricane. Just imagining it still brings a smile to my face.

This story so far is a bit like a personality litmus test for you the reader. If you have yet to picture any of the absurd and horrible things that could have happened when two blind people get together for a blind date, then you are probably a good person.

If not, I’ll see you back tomorrow for another story.

So why did I start this off by saying that no bad deed goes unpunished?

Because the damn blind people ended up getting married! And to get their revenge on me, they invited me to the wedding. A whole Saturday… shot!

They are both active in the blind community so most of the people at the wedding were also blind. The bride’s father was blind so when the time came it was the blind leading the blind down the aisle.

Why and how did everyone look so good when nobody could see anything?

The dance floor was a sea of white canes and the only thing louder than the music was the sound of shins getting whacked.

It even had the traditional “The bride cuts the cake. The bride cuts the cake. Hi-ho the derry-o, the bride cuts the cake and the guy holding the cake.”

Am I angry that two blind people found happiness when I, and my two perfectly-functioning eyes, remain alone? Of course not. Love is blind, so of course it’s going to show favoritism.

For fuck’s sake, the bride threw the bouquet into the punch bowl.

Ok… I might be a little bitter.