Blind(ish) Date
My mother is officially a nutjob.
Yesterday, she calls me at work and the first words out of her mouth are, "I hope you don't hate me for this one..."
Never good.
She then proceeds to tell me that a young guy in her office saw my picture on her desk and asked if I was her daughter. She told him yes and that I live in Nashville, am gorgeous, intelligent and witty (I'm assuming the last part...)
He then tells her that he has brother-in-law in Nashville who is amazing and somehow single...
And now the two are in cahoots to set us up on a blind date.
After being informed of this fact, I emitted a loud groan and told her that if she wanted to try her hand at becoming a yenta, she should visit the nearest synagogue and leave me out of it.
Being my typical mother, she ignored my complaints and told me to hear her out. She goes on and on about this fabulous guy who is in his late 20s, has a loft downtown, loves dogs, yada yada yada.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Oh, and he plays hockey...for the preda...?"
"You mean the PREDATORS? As in, the team holding the top spot in the NHL western conference?"
"Yep! That's the one! We've already emailed him your picture!"
Lawd. My mother's done gone and set me up with a bonafide professional athlete. It's unsettling.
Being a hockey player, I'm just hoping he has all of his teeth. If he has less than two thirds, I swear I won't speak to my mother for a week.
Yesterday, she calls me at work and the first words out of her mouth are, "I hope you don't hate me for this one..."
Never good.
She then proceeds to tell me that a young guy in her office saw my picture on her desk and asked if I was her daughter. She told him yes and that I live in Nashville, am gorgeous, intelligent and witty (I'm assuming the last part...)
He then tells her that he has brother-in-law in Nashville who is amazing and somehow single...
And now the two are in cahoots to set us up on a blind date.
After being informed of this fact, I emitted a loud groan and told her that if she wanted to try her hand at becoming a yenta, she should visit the nearest synagogue and leave me out of it.
Being my typical mother, she ignored my complaints and told me to hear her out. She goes on and on about this fabulous guy who is in his late 20s, has a loft downtown, loves dogs, yada yada yada.
Then, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "Oh, and he plays hockey...for the preda...?"
"You mean the PREDATORS? As in, the team holding the top spot in the NHL western conference?"
"Yep! That's the one! We've already emailed him your picture!"
Lawd. My mother's done gone and set me up with a bonafide professional athlete. It's unsettling.
Being a hockey player, I'm just hoping he has all of his teeth. If he has less than two thirds, I swear I won't speak to my mother for a week.
posted by Rachel at 2:31 PM
6 Comments:
So when's the date? You have to meet him, even just to find out how warped your mother's view of you is...
Man, I never got this lucky when I was single... most of my set-ups and blind dates were borderline nightmares except one, and that one just turned out to be a five year long mistake!
Hope he's great and hope you have a blast whenever you do meet him!!!!
I hope it's not Shea Weber - he probably wouldn't remember his name after the punch he took Saturday night.
After curiously looking over the roster pictures, there are about TWELVE people I hope it's not...
Not promising statistics.
...think of the money and all the nice things he could buy you as you stare longingly across the table into the gaps where his teeth should be.
I looked at the roster, and using my powers of deduction, it could only be one of two people, if the guy at your mom's work is American.
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