Oh I’m Sorry, I Must Have Mistaken This Date For Rush

By Jill

I’ve been home from college for what? Two months? And already, my parents are worried I am going to become an old maid, living with them for – gasp! – the rest of eternity. So what if I’m more into yoga than Jaeger bombs? I enjoy the time I spend in bed napping, DVD watching, and blogging for all of you about how I’ve turned into a grandma at the age of twenty-two. My parents (and now my whole surrounding world of people), however, will have none of that.

Aren’t parents supposed to be the ones who are against going out to the bar? I guess in that respect my ‘rents are so not 1969. But their dating tactics? Well, it’s more old school than any of my kick-ass, super-soft vintage T’s (and I have some verrrry old ones).

My parents met in the 70’s when they were set up on a blind date. Therefore, they think that I should be set up on as many blind dates as possible. Lovelyyyy.

So, a few weeks ago I was set up, by my brother, with a 26 year old. While I wasn’t exactly excited, I figured it would give me a reason to wear my cute metallic wedges since my summer uniform has basically consisted of workout clothes or boxer briefs.

What I expected: My friends assured me that since this guy is older, he would take the lead, ask the questions, the whole enchilada.

What I got: 2 hours of me having to talk non-stop. Because the 30 seconds I did stop was filled with this: ____________________ (oh my god someone say something!)_______ (how long has it been?!)_______.

I have concluded that there really is nothing more awkward than an awkward silence. From then on I was sure to keep the conversation moving at all costs.

This felt all too familiar. “Where are you from?”, “Did you study abroad?”, “Do you know such and such person?”, “How great are college football games?”

I was confused. Was I on a date or was I sitting, sweating like a maniac, in the unairconditioned and (un)comfort of my sorority house living room floor asking a new potential member the same roster of questions? I instantaneously felt homesick for my sorority house at UW. At least during rush, you got a new person to talk to every five minutes, AND someone comes around with a yummy treat.

Well lucky me, because after five minutes came and went there was no new date or cookie in sight. After two-oh-so-joyous-please-give this-time-I’ve-lost-back-to-me-hours, I could probably recite this guy’s schooling, extracurricular activities and life ambitions better than my ABC’s. And I can’t say the same for Mr. “Don’t Worry Jill He Will Ask All The Questions”. This bust of a date asked me two (TWO !!) things about myself.

So what gives? Do I write him off as a dud and snuggle up with the latest season of Family Guy or do I give him another chance and hope he gets a bit (a bit times two-hundred) more conversational?

I think I’m going for the Family Guy. At least then I am guaranteed a laugh.