OT: Matchmaker, Matchmaker

There’s a new game we play in my office.

It’s called, “Let’s Set Lauryn Up.”

Over the past six months of single-dom, I’ve had a few offers from friends and co-workers (and those that blur the lines) to arrange a date with their “so-and-so”. These offers, although rejected at the time, are now coming to fruition as I find that I’m ready to “put myself out there”, so to speak.

With one blind date under my belt, I was feeling pretty confident. It went well. I didn’t make a total ass of myself nor did I trip in my high heels. Moreover, I think I may have even managed to eat sushi without looking like a chipmunk which, as any sushi eater knows, is a testament to my decision to order the small tuna roll rather than the tuna amazing roll or valentine roll that I really wanted ability. You don’t want to be that girl. Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. No one wants to look like an overfed rodent on their first date.

But I digress.

As I was saying, I was feeling pretty confident until one of my co-workers offered to set me up on another date. Actually, at that point I was still feeling confident. My debonair attitude evaporated as soon as the plans were cemented and I was invited to a group outing. I would be meeting my potential at a bar in Seaside, NJ.

In my opinion, there are a few cracks in this plan:

(1)  I am from Point Pleasant, NJ (a.k.a the Jersey Shore). I try my hardest not to frequent Seaside. Especially since the tv show has come out. I am not a guidette. I do not fist pump. And I can’t even remember the last shot I took (excluding Fireball because, let’s face it, that stuff is delicious and barely even qualifies). I try not to stereotype, and it’s not really fair of me because I live a mere 20 minutes up Route 35, but honestly it’s just too ingrained and I can’t help it. 24 years of my parents telling me that Seaside is dirty and corrupt and that old needles wash up on the beach there can’t be easily erased.

(2)  This is a group outing. Not super fond of group outing blind date-ish things, or whatever this is or may turn out to be. I’m more of a fan of the one-on-one dinner. Not coffee (that’s for your girlfriends). Not lunch (see previous comment). Dinner. A nice meal and a nice glass of wine and two people talking. I think it is easier to cut to the chase this way. We have things in common or we don’t. I’m attracted to you or I’m not. He’s a complete idiot or he isn’t. One dinner can tell you a lot. One post-9:30pm evening in a bar? We’ll see.

(3)  I only know one other person attending this outing: the friend that set me up. I’m not a huge fan of going out with one person and only knowing them while they know multiple people. It’s not that I can’t talk to other people or make friends because oh can I talk. It’s just that I hate being the person that someone is responsible for. That sounds ridiculous, writing it out. One would think, “I am responsible for myself!” But you know what I mean. Basically, I don’t want to be a clinger. I will try my hardest to prevent this.

(4)  We’re meeting at a bar. In my experience, conversing is discouraged in most bars due to loud music and copious intakes of alcohol. Maybe not so much the latter...that probably loosens the lines of communication. Unless it’s one of those adorable pub-y like places (my favorite!) or some type of lounge (no.) it will probably be a little difficult to talk.

So now I’ve been a complete downer and outlined everything that could possible make my date unsuccessful. 35-year old me says this is completely realistic (didn’t you know, I am really 35 years old on the inside). 24-year old me says I should stop talking and just enjoy my night out with friends. Age doesn’t always equate to wisdom, you know.

Thus, I will follow my younger self’s advice. I will pick out a cute outfit (which I will still send to my best friend for approval), I will do my hair, and I will meet a guy at a bar at 9:30pm.

That’s way past my bedtime.