The Big "Fix-Up"

In the course of the past week, I've had not one, but two friends of mine offer to set me up with a woman that I'd "really hit it off with." The reason for this mystifies me. I've made no remarks about WANTING to be set up with anyone, nor have I expressed exasperation about my current social status, which is "lonely asshole." But you know, perhaps desperation is something that seeps through your pores, much like sweat... and if that's the case, I can only assume that I reek of it.

I'm not against the concept of blind dates persay, as least where it pertains to someone else. But I'm definitely not a "blind date" type of guy myself, mostly because I try to put myself into the woman's shoes. I think to myself, "If I were a single woman on a blind date, how would I feel if I saw Jeremy the Loner walk in through the door?" To avoid putting the woman (not to mention myself) through that awkward spectacle, I just choose not to get involved. That way, I won't have to watch her expectant smile cool a few shades once she realizes that I'M her date; and I won't have to listen to her fumble excuses as to why she "can't stay out too late" and how she "has to work early tomorrow morning." Meanwhile, I'd just be sitting there, sighing to myself. "Check, please."

Now, before you "maternal" type women out there start flooding my inbox with, "Aw Jeremy, don't be so hard on yourself" and start feeding me a bunch of bullshit about how I "just need some confidence," let me just say this; yeah, I'm single. It doesn't particularly bother me, and if it did I would actually be LOOKING for someone... and I'm not. The thing is, it's hard for me to meet a woman that's smart, funny and willing to let me undress her. But believe you me, when I do find such a woman, I'll get her acclimated to my hideous appearance and meaningless life, and then, BAM! I'll make my move!

She won't know what hit her, the poor broad.