The Next Guy I went out with was...Rocco. We met on a Blind Date.
I like to say he's still blind.
That being said, I didn't want to waste any time by the time I met him. The very first night we met for drinks, I decided to play a joke on him, because I wasn't about to waste any time on someone with no sense of humor.
We said we'd meet at a local Sports Bar. It was a weeknight and therefore not too crowded. He asked me how he would know me. For anyone younger than me: this was before Match.com or any of those entities were mainstream...we did not have a picture of one another, just a description...and at that point, we had only talked on the phone.
I told him I would sit over by the Jukebox. Seemed safe.
When I walked in, I scanned the bar, and my eyes caught on a particular guy that I thought might be him. I took a seat over by the jukebox and what do you know...a minute later, that same guy approached me with a tentative smile.
"Hi, are you Stella?" He extended his hand for a shake, a friendly smile on his face.
I played Oscar-worthy-award-winning-Airhead.
"Oh, no...sorry...my name is...Sarah." I batted my eyelashes at him and gave a semi-shrug.
He turned red and just as he began apologizing profusely for interrupting me, I decided to torture him no more.
"Roc? I'm joking. I'm Stella." We had a good laugh, and he chided me for the ruse.
I liked him immediately.
An hour or so later, we were sitting there having a bite to eat, just getting to know each other, when he put down his fork and exclaimed, "I can't believe you did that to me!"
I laughed, and I knew for sure that he was okay, and that we would end up seeing each other again.