The Blind Date
by Susana Rosende
I no longer remember his name, though I can't forget his nose. Long and wide with curves as sharp as Dead Man's Run on a ski slope, it dominated the landscape of his face. No matter how I averted my eyes, I found myself staring as he maneuvered his fork beneath it during lunch. I wasn't surprised he'd decided to meet women through email, but I WAS surprised he considered himself to be "a very good-looking guy." I suppose he could have been, if it weren't for a nose that sported a bigger hump than the one on the back of the character in the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Yet, I reminded myself that looks were secondary to a good heart, and forced myself to go through with our date, which included brunch and Mass at Sts. Peter and Paul Catholic Church. After all, he was Catholic, worked with many charities, and was not only recently divorced, having previously married a single mother and helped raise her children, he still maintained a fatherly relationship with both his step-children.
The lack of chemistry proved to be a stroke of fate, however, as his heartwarming personality turned cold when we revealed our respective ethnic backgrounds.
"YOU SPANISH are horrible animal abusers!" he spat, red-faced, as he recounted the history of Spain, with its bullfights, and alleged "scape goat" holiday during which villagers pile on top of a hapless goat until it collapses.
I was shocked that he was blaming me, an animal lover who has several pets, have volunteered at animal shelters, and looks after strays, for an alleged European-Spanish, not Cuban, tradition. But, I realized he didn't know me. He didn't know me, but was judging my relationship to animals based on his ill-conceived notions of my ethnic background.
I was surprised he didn't mention the Spanish Inquisition. And I had much too much grace to remind him of the atrocities inflicted on the human race by persons of his German heritage.
After Mass, he politely walked me to my car, mumbling to keep in touch, and shook my hand. I was grateful he didn't try to kiss me.
We never emailed nor 'Instant-Messaged' each other again.
The image I used to represent my blind date is by very talented, and handsome, Kite Artist from Canada, Robert Trepanier. I am a fan of his whimsical flying figures and want to share his Art. More sites featuring the Kite Art of Robert Trepanier include: