The Blind Date (Or, what I did for Love)
As best I can remember, this account of my first and last blind date happened in the late spring of 1977, which would have made me 21 years old at the time..
It was a warm Thursday night in May and my sister Helene (now passed) who was 4 years my junior, asked me if I would go on a blind date on Friday, with her and her boyfriend and the boyfriend's co-worker. Helene and Freddie were both 17 and were deep deep deep in puppy love. I had never had a boyfriend before then, and I think Helene felt a little sorry for me. "No" I answered. Two hours later, when she begged me for the 20th time, I think I relented and said "Ok". She responded with her sweetest smile. I was a chunky young woman and did not have a lot of confidence or experience with boys, nor men. Helene assured me.."Freddie said you are just his type" I thought "How bad could it be?" The next day, I was informed that we would be picked up at 3PM. ??? Why so early?? I was told it had to do with work and whatnot, and that we had to be ready at 3PM.
I made my best effort and when 3PM rolled around, our coach arrived...A huge trash truck. I shot Helene a look, but went along..Four of us in the front seat of this trash truck...My date's tiny toothless dad at the wheel, then me, then Helene then Freddie by the passenger door. Dad's elbow was firmly placed in my boob and a happy, wide, toothless smile was firmly on his face. I shot another look at Helene and off we went to the amusement and delight of our neighbors. Where was my date? I was told he would meet us at the farm. Farm? Helene and I were raised in the inner city of Philadelphia, and there were no farms local. "A short drive to New Jersey" I was assured. But first, we had to make a delivery... One solid hour later..we arrived at the place where we were making the delivery...the dump. Dad sure was grinning now...elbow still in my boob. Helene's eyes started to show a little nervous apprehension as if to say "sorry". The trash truck wound around and around the mountains and valleys of refuse for about 10 minutes. Then Dad said "Hold on!". The truck started straight up the face of a 6 story high mountain of trash..with me and Helene screaming all the way. When we reached the top, we made the "delivery". The hatch opened in the back and we dumped the cargo..then Dad started the truck down a crazy shear drop on the other side. Helene and I never stopped screaming till we reached the bottom.
About 20 minutes after that, we finally arrived at the farm..a turkey farm I was told. It seemed cute and picturesque. Dad finally took his elbow out of my boob and exited the truck..I thought things were looking up. When we got out of the truck, Dad said "Run!" Run? "Yeah! They bite!" We were being chased by large 6 nasty geese. I had never even seen geese in person before. Run I did, in my 5 inch platforms, all the way to the farmhouse...Safely inside, we were escorted to the kitchen. Dad and Freddie took their leave and Helene and I were seated at the table with...Mom..who was every bit the man Dad never was.. She made us hot tea and had a seat next to me and began the interrogation..Why had I agreed to date her son? What did I know about her son? What was my story? Very visibly, she was displeased. The questioning raged on.. It grew dark outside. Freddie reappeared and Helene disappeared with him.. After approximately three hours, Mom was starting to weaken..and I think she was starting to like me. Yikes!
Finally, at about 8 or 9 PM, Helene reentered the kitchen with Freddie and my date (who's name I blessedly cannot remember). 20ish, medium build, very muscular, bald, bearded and mustachioed with flame red hair. I remember that he, too, was missing some teeth. Here he was and it was time for the date to begin..Where were we going? His place. His place was, I swear, a shack built over the pig pen. As far as I can remember, there were three rooms: bed, bath and "room". Helene and Freddie disappeared again and Date turned on the TV. I sat on a couch. Date sat at the other end. About 4 commercials played. Then, in a super human move straight from every Dracula movie, he lunged. He landed on me and then...And yes I did..I bit him. Hard. In the chest. I felt the flesh tear, but not the skin break. Just like the Wolfman, he howled. He leaped up and so did I. Now on our feet, he struck me. I flew off my feet and hit a wall that was at least 5 feet away. I slid to the floor and was jammed behind a bed that was against the wall. Helene and Freddie ran in. Freddie grabbed Date and pulled him away. I would never see him again.
We left in the dark, in the now pouring down rain and cold, with no coats, on foot. I do remember jumping fences. The three of us walked about 25 minutes to reach the nearest highway..where we started to hitchhike. One hour and three car changes later, we were standing at the foot of the New Jersey side of the Walt Whitman Bridge, which is a MAJOR 8 lane highway, in the still pouring rain. Thumbs out, we were immediately stopped by two young, handsome, yellow-slicker wearing New Jersey State Troopers...What were we doing!?!? Were we crazy? I spoke. I recounted most of the above story. The young troopers looked at each other and one started to write and then, he handed me a ticket. A citation for hitchhiking. This was my first and last hitchhike and I was citated. I looked at the ticket in my hand..The ink was already starting to run. I looked at the trooper and then....I started to cry. Again, in mercy, the troopers looked at each other. They opened the back seat of their cruiser and said, "get in..we can’t leave you on the bridge". They drove us across the Walt Whitman, into Broad Street and straight up to a train station. Citation still in hand, I thanked them. The rest of that night is a blur. It had to entail two trains and one bus ride. Poor Helene apologized over and over. My dating history has had its highs and lows. It was a miracle that I ever wanted to date again...But I completely forgave Helene....for love.
Dorothy
BigTime Rock Show
