Introductions are in order here so let’s say it is safe to remember me as Bisma from Brooklyn. I am at that age where your dreams no longer matter because you must get married or suffer at the hands of all Pakistani aunties in the whole wide world.

My family and friends, with only good intentions, are constantly setting me up with rishtas and blind dates. All the chai time and dinners have been, to say the least, an interesting experience and few stand out for many different reasons.

Especially my very first blind date, which I refer to as...

The blind, blind date...

Let’s call my date Zia.

Zia graduated in the top five per cent from law school. According to many sources; he had a wonderful sense of humour, down-to-earth personality, and was on his way to great success. Zia and I had spoken a week in advance before the date. We decided to meet each other at his university and to keep the date informal.

When I arrived I was taken aback. I expected him to be casual; but to have random holes (not the fashionable kind) all over his jeans, a white-long john shirt, and really filthy sneakers, was definitely unexpected. I decided to ignore his attire.

We started the date at a nice, casual, Spanish restaurant. The conversation was going well until he started gulping martinis, one after the other. He started babbling and slurring; at one point, he was having a conversation with himself. He talked so much that he did not even order dinner (I was not hungry so I did not mind it, but if I was hungry it would have been a different story.)

When I finally got the chance to talk about my interests – Zia decided his hobbies were more exciting. He started talking about smoking marijuana. Apparently that was his only and most favorite hobby because he discussed marijuana for the next two hours. When the restaurant closed he decided for the both of us to go to a lounge.

As we were leaving, he bumped into the restaurant door, and then tripped on himself. I was genuinely concerned and politely suggested going home if he was not feeling well (I really was concerned).

He claimed he was feeling fine. So the date continued; while we were walking slowly towards the lounge he started to explain a medical condition he had - a vitamin A deficiency.

This condition causes him to be nearly blind at night. At this point I knew I could not escape. We approached a sidewalk that was under construction. I had to hold his hand to help keep his balance all the way to the lounge.

The lounge was almost empty, dim, and had couches everywhere. We entered the lounge and found a comfortable spot to relax. Zia slowly made his way to the bar to order more drinks for him and more coffee for me. He managed to make it back to the couch without spilling a drop and I almost felt guilty for wanting to ditch him. But then it started.

He sat down proud and a little too confident in a dim-setting – perhaps because he had made it to the couch without making a fool of himself. And just as I was quickly thinking of other qualities to appreciate in Zia…it happened.

It only took a second, but it plays in slow motion every time I remember it.

Zia managed to miss his mouth while taking a sip of wine. As a matter of fact, the wine spilled all over his shoulders and chest. He was as red as the wine stain on his white shirt. I quickly got some tissue and helped him clean up. He was embarrassed and apologised. I comforted him by telling him that he was almost perfect. He laughed and forgot about what had just happened.

Towards the end of the night the conversation stopped. We were watching a couple of guys play an Italian game called bocce ball inside the lounge.

Zia took the silence as an opportunity to become intimate with me, while I was distracted watching the game. I could feel him leaning in to kiss me (I couldn’t tell where), but of course it was not going to happen.

Instead Zia, with the vitamin A deficiency, landed a big sloppy one on the back of my neck. That was the last straw. I politely ended the date and went home. I heard from Zia twice after that night, but I made it clear that dating was not a priority in my life.

What I learned from Zia: Don’t do drugs.

Until the next one,

Bisma from Brooklyn, New York

*Names and background information have been changed/withheld to respect person(s) involved.

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