Tonight, you'll be amazed at how well your blind date is going. When you walk into the restaurant and spot him in his brown jacket and curly blond hair, the description he gave you, you won't believe how hot he is. Then you'll sit down and your conversation will turn intimate almost instantly. Not a few minutes will pass before you are sharing with each other the ways in which your families embarrass you, the movies you secretly loved that everyone else hated, the dreams you're afraid to admit that you've given up on. The connection will be immediately as deep as if you've known each other for years.
After he pays the check you'll suggest that the two of you walk a bit and talk some more. He'll say that that's a great idea. You'll walk to the door and right before he opens it for you, he'll pull a white painter's mask from his jacket pocket and pull it over his nose and mouth. Then he'll step out on the street and start talking about his years as a substitute school teacher.
After walking for ten minutes, you'll finally ask him what's up with the mask. He'll chuckle a bit, saying that a lot of people think it's weird, but that anytime he breathes unfiltered air he starts throwing up. He'll say it's mostly psychological, him knowing what he knows about the air. 'What everyone should know, really,' he'll say. 'But the government would have mass hysteria on their hands if it ever got out.' Then he'll change the subject by talking about a trip to Africa he took after college. You took a similar trip the same summer, and it turns out you both stayed in neighboring villages.
You'll spend your walk marveling at what a great guy he is, while also wondering whether you can spend a whole lot of time with a guy who's afraid to breathe air. How weird does this look, you'll wonder. You'll look at people passing you on the sidewalk, noting their puzzled glances. Then you'll bump into a friend of his and the two of them will speak casually. He'll introduce you, and no one will mention the fact that your date is wearing an air mask. If his friends are used to it, who's to say it'll be a problem for you.
'I can't ask you in,' you'll say when you arrive at your stoop. 'Perhaps next time.'
'I hope I can wait that long,' he'll say.
He won't lean in for a kiss, so you'll make the first move. You'll lean your face forward, then you'll lift your hands to pull his mask off his face. He'll grab your wrists in an iron grip.
'I can't. Not unless we're in an enclosed space with central air,' he'll say. 'I'll start throwing up, seriously.'
You'll nod, trying not to look stupefied.
'If you really want to kiss me you can invite me up,' he'll say.
You'll respond very quickly, 'No that's all right. Thanks for the sushi.' Then you'll rush up to your apartment and wonder why anytime you meet a great guy, he's either married, gay, or unable to breathe air without vomiting.
Happy What A Great Blind Date Day!
