Fragment #36 - Blind Date

Wednesday 3rd February 2010
Glasgow

“I knew this dude once, can't remember his name. Anyway, there was this time he was out on a blind date, now this dude – Tommy, that was his name – well he went to the date really looking forward to it. It had been years for poor Tommy, five years of no sex whatsoever. He was desperate. Okay, using the word desperate is a bit like saying “Hitler was a wee bit naughty”, it just doesn't have the right emphasis.
“Anyway, he meets up with this bird and oh-my-fucking-god she is hideous. She was the kind of woman apparently that would make men want to chop it off and turn my sister straight. Y'know someone you wake up next to and scream in terror.
“So they are both sitting chatting in the restaurant, now Tommy was really struggling here, he noticed that the girl wanted him, but despite his desperation he was unsure if he could go through with it. This was a dilemma for the man, on the one hand he was dying for a shag, almost to the point of humping peoples legs on the bus. But on the other, he was having a hard time controlling his gag reflex. He needs to think quickly, his brain racing through hundreds of possibilities from castration to a paper bag. He starts to come up with a plan... a plan which will make it possible for him to get his Nat-King without wanting to go blind.
“He goes off into the Gents and calls this dude, right and arranges to meet him outside in ten minutes. Now, Tommy forgot to find out before implementing his plan whether or not she smoked. It was only on his way back to his table that this crossed his mind. What the hell would he do if she wanted to go out too?
“For five agonising minutes he waited there, terrified about asking. Yes, I know, I have no fucking idea what he was thinking either! Five minutes of tense conversation and attempting not to make eye contact, because eye contact would involve looking at her face. But then a silver lining appears. Apparently, she was in her tenth week without a cigarette. So, making sure he's not shat himself in fear, he goes out for a fag and to meet this dude.”
I take a drink of coffee to clear my throat.
“Where was I?”
“Er... uh, he was going out to meet that guy?”
“That's it... right, he goes out, he's not away for more than five minutes, before he comes back. He continues the idle chit-chat about the weather and his time in the army – No he was not in the army. Keeping her distracted while he puts something into the drink...
“He wakes up the next day, he doesn't recognise the room he's in, but he has some vague memories of... er, carnal enjoyment. He remembers the date, he remembers that it was with that thing he had sex. He could tell because he could see the blurry almost human-like face of the woman in his flashbacks.”
“Human-like face? So, what the fuck happened?”
”Well that guy he called was one of his dealers, he bought a shitload of Rohypnol that night.”
“What? Ed, are you telling me that this guy...”
“Yup, he date-raped himself. He was so desperate that he actually date raped himself.”
“Y'know, for some reason, I know this is going to sound fucked up Ed, but I actually feel better after you telling me that.”