A Blind Date Back-up Plan

It is difficult to sit through a dinner in the company of four relative strangers with whom you are not impressed; I don't recommend it. It is an even worse idea to allow these sub-par conversationalists to hand pick your date for the evening. That having been said, I would like to dedicate the following to a gentleman in his mid-forties who showed up 3 hours late in a ribbed black tucked-in tank top with a 60k salary; and to his friends, whose primary concerns were that I let down my hair and smile. What about the blind date has dictated that its presence persists in society?

Has anyone ever maintained a successful relationship with someone they were introduced to blindly? The very fact that a semi-debilitating handicap makes up the first half of its title is very telling. I tend to meet friends who feel they will not be satisfied until they have managed to set me up with their boyfriend's cousin/co-worker/friend from high school and put me out of my presumed single-life misery. Suffering through more evenings filled with the wreckage of conversational carnage than I can count on two hands has forced me to come up with a bad blind date game plan called AADC, or Assess, Ascertain, Drink, and Confide.

Having had an opportunity to utilize it this past weekend, it goes as follows: 1) Assess individual I am being set up with. Make note of his clothes, (sleeves are preferred), hairline (we'd like him to have one), and height, (if I can take you, this probably isn't going to work). 2) Ascertain why this individual is single and up for blind dates. (Sleeveless, balding, 5'4") 3) Drink, drink, driiiiinnnnnkkkkk. 4) Confide drunkenly to individual who is now one of my bestest friends about how impossible it is to find anyone intelligent and attractive.