The Accidental Blind Date (NSFW)

I am typing this out from somebody else's computer, half drunk out of my mind. I'd have been fully drunk if somebody hadn't literally fucked the alcohol out of my brains in the last couple of hours. I have had the most unlikeliest accidental blind date.

It all started when I got into an argument in the comments section of a popular publication, which shall remain unnamed. The publication predominantly covers contemporary politics and there was this firebrand of a white, Republican crazy girl shooting her mouth off in the comments. I couldn't resist responding with one of my pithy, stinging zingers. And then it was on. Oh, it was on. After an half a day long spat in the comments section, we accepted the advice of the dozens of other exasperated readers who urged us to 'get a room': we got ourselves a private chat room.

One thing led to another and after two weeks, we decided to setup a blind date. Now, after having been on the Internet since the last century, I don't do blind dates any more and I highly discourage others from trying them. But in this case, I had already built up too many fantasies of my loony Republican white girl looking like a young, sizzling Sarah Palin. I didn't want my fantasies to have a premature death by exchanging photos. And when neither of us could keep the online sparks suppressed any more (which explains the approximately mid-week date), we decided to go all in and meet blind.

As per advice from countless detective novels, I showed up half an hour early to the appoint and cased the joint, the bar, thoroughly, identifying the best seat from which to observe the entrance and see every person who got in and out, identifying the best seat in which to remain relatively obscure, and finally identifying the best seat in which I could both remain obscure and still see every person who got in and out.

About five minutes after I took this perfect seat and ordered a beer, in walked a beautiful younger sister of Jenna Fischer (Pam in The Office). She took the seat that I had identified earlier as not being obscure, but from which I could see every person who got in and out of the bar. It also happened to be the seat that gave me a very great profile view of JF Jr, almost exactly like she is in this painting: https://i.imgur.com/deaT2.jpg . That side-boob! I was ready to replace the young, sizzling SP Jr (SP = Sarah Palin) in every one of my fantasies from the past two weeks with JF Jr. By her demeanor at her seat, she seemed to be waiting for somebody. I hoped she was waiting for me. I hoped she was my blind date, my loony Repub.

But I didn't have the guts to go up to her and ask if she was indeed waiting for me. Even when she looked at me a few times and smiled at me. When no other lone girl had walked into the pub about 10 minutes after my scheduled date time, I decided to check if JF Jr was my date. Just as I wiped my clammy hands with the napkin and checked my crotch to make sure the bulge had subsided before going over to her, she came to me.

She, tentatively: "Man...ish?"

Me, mumbling, fumbling: "No, I am SP, Some Profile."

She: "Oh, sorry... I thought you were somebody else."

Me: "Actually, I thought you were somebody else too..."

Both of us: "Heh-heh-heh".

Me: "Tell you what, if your Man doesn't show up and my SP* doesn't show up, will you be my date?" (*SP for Sarah Palin, get it?)

She, opening her mouth and grinning wickedly, while looking at me accusingly: "Nice try... But, may be I will consider it."

Just as she got back to her seat, a lean, bearded, obviously Gujju bhai came in, looked around the pub once and went straight to her. I tried not to stare... too obviously. He appeared to be restless, even more nervous than me, didn't order anything when the waitress went over, and started a a harried, very expressive conversation with JF Jr involving lot of head shakes and arm waves.

Meanwhile, I fidgeted with restlessness and jealousy. Where the hell was my SP Jr? It was almost 30 minutes past our agreed time. Damn us for not even exchanging phone numbers! I emailed her from my phone, sent an offline message to her chat ID. No responses.

All of a sudden, Mr Man bhai got up and walked out of the pub. Just like that. Next thing, JF Jr downed her remaining beer in one swallow, and beckoned the waitress to order more. The waitress returned with two shots of something and another mug of beer. The same waitress happened to have my second beer on her tray and she started walking towards me. Before she could reach me, JF Jr downed the two shots one after the other, pow-pow, like she was a professional assassin double-tapping her target. Then she grabbed her beer mug with a vengeance.

I nursed my second beer for another 30 minutes, while JF Jr sipped her beer and had an animated conversation with somebody on the phone. By now, I had given up on SP Jr turning up. I finished my second beer and went over to JF Jr's table. I have no idea how the next few hours passed. Turned out that JF Jr was also there for a blind date with an Indian guy. Turned out that the Indian guy was Mr Man bhai, who was already engaged to a girl in India, to be married in October. He wanted to have an experience of dating a white girl before he got permanently hitched. But alas, he had last minute pangs of guilt and decided not to date anyone. But he was brave enough to show up in person and confess it all to JF Jr's face. I admired him for that. JF Jr didn't share my admiration at first. But after our nth shot and mth beer, she came round to seeing our point of view.

By the time the waitress announced closing time, we had already made a pact to have a proper date of our own, with each other this weekend. We also made a pack to share a cab home. She wouldn't let me drive back home and certainly wouldn't let me drive her home, despite my repeated assurances that I was perfectly okay to drive. As soon as we got into the cab and drove off, I remembered that in all the excitement, I had forgotten to pass that last piss at the pub. Indeed, I had had the urgent urge to piss for almost 20 minutes prior to closing time, but I held it in as I didn't want to get away from JF Jr for even a minute of our the last minutes of our accidental blind date. You see, at that time, I hadn't know that we would be sharing a cab. I shared news of my critical condition with JF Jr. She gallantly offered to let me piss in her pot, as the cab would be reaching her house first.

When we got to JF Jr's apartment, the cab driver refused to wait for me while I ran up to take a quick piss and come right back down. After 2-minutes of haranguing that felt like 30 minutes to my bladder, he agreed to wait if we paid him the fare till that point. We did so and raced up to her door. She fumbled with opening her lock for 2 minutes. I grabbed her key and fumbled for definitely more than 2 minutes. While we were fumbling to open the lock, she asked me how good my piss aim was. It took a few moments for me to realize what she was asking me about. Meanwhile, she went to on to lecture me about making sure that I aimed right into the pot and she didn't want me marking territory all over her powder room. She told me about the house warming party she had had the previous month during which her male friends had turned her restroom into a flood zone. So on and so forth.

I forgot all about my urgent urge and she forgot all about opening her door, and we started a men's toilet habits vs women's powder room habits, right then and there. Eventually, we managed to get her door open, and then the conversation took an interesting turn. As I recall, this is how it happened:

Me: "Women have no idea about the skill needed to aim and control the flow from a man's hose. I have a theory that men are so good at driving and handling all manner of complicated machinery because they start by practicing with themselves from the time they are little more than babies."

She: "Throughout history, men are the ones who have not had control of their own equipment. Where as, women prove over and over and over again that they have much more control over men's tools."

Me: "Having control is not the same as having skill."

She: "I bet I could aim it better than you, even though I am more drunk than you."

Me: "I bet you couldn't."

She: "Wanna prove me wrong?"

Me: "Wanna prove me right?"

She: "Okay, let do it right now."

She dragged me straight through into her 'powder room', and started fumbling with my pants. By now, I confess that the preceding conversation had me standing at half-mast. I felt a little embarrassed.

Me: "Wait, wait... you can handle it, but you can't see it."

She: "What? I can't aim without seeing it!"

Me: "You don't need to see IT to aim it. Trust me. You just need to see the target."

She: "No way!"

Me: "Yes way! Hundreds of thousands of men across the world are doing it right this minute and a lot of them are drunk too. Aim it without seeing it, or else, admit defeat and the bet is off."

She: "Alright mister... I won't see. So, how do we do this?"

Eventually, she got behind me and our four hands managed to open my fly, reach through my briefs and pull me out. Needless to say, by now, I was at full-mast. The men here will testify that at full-mast, it is either impossible to piss or very painful to piss or both. In my case, this night, the piss simply wouldn't flow. So, there I was standing in front of her toilet. And there she was standing behind me, with her arms around me, holding my full hardened hose and urging me to, "Okay, shoot... I am all aimed and ready, shoot dammit! Are you taking advantage of me? I am not gonna stand her all night holding this... this thing. Shoot. Ready... Fire! FIRE!" So on and so forth.

After that, a lot of different things happened. She peeked to see why the hell "my gun is not firing" (yes, she called it her gun), we both burst out laughing silly several times, we tried some deep breathing exercises to help cool me down, she tried pushing it down (which only made it spring back up more than ever) and we did several other silly things before we ended up with her sitting on her bathroom counter, her panties on the floor and me firmly wedged between her thighs. Later, we managed to get me pissing, we aimed right and true, and then she dragged me to her bed for a couple more rounds.

And so, I live yet another day to tell yet another tale of one man's quest for light, peace and pussy in this dark, grim world... I am going back to her bed now. If you don't hear from me again, tell my family that I went missing in action in the service to the country.

Naipaul would probably say this was written by a woman. Yaar, keep it short, na. I could not get past Manish leaving in ahuff.

Very nicely written. Funny and romantic. I enjoyed reading it.

SP, so this heh-heh-heh- you mention somewhere midway in your chronicle, is that a full mouthed smile or a smirk? you forgot to describe.

LOL@ "tell my family that I went missing in action in the service to the country."

Dude, whatever happened to your latina GF? You got dumped? Or the other way around?!

someprofile I'm very glad that you are alive

how much did the cabbie charge you eventually?

Title should be changed asap...accidental susu blind date

Tracy Whitney wrote:how much did the cabbie charge you eventually?

good catch!

Tracy Whitney wrote:how much did the cabbie charge you eventually?

Nothing extra at all. The cabbie was smart. Drunk guy going up to a drunk girl's apartment claims he will just piss and be back down in 2 minutes? What is the guarantee that he will come down that night at all, let alone in 2 minutes? That is why he asked us to pay up the fare till that point, before we got out of the cab. My guess is that he waited for 5 minutes and drove away from there before we even managed to get her lock opened.