First Date Anxieties

The thing about being neurotic is that I worry about EVERYTHING. I can't help it; I've been that way ever since I was a kid. I'm not quite sure why.

Before I go on a date with someone for the first time, I go into full-on freakout mode, because I'm never quite sure what to expect, especially if the date is with someone I met online.

I'm standing in front of the mirror, examining my reflection. Is that a zit? I didn't see it this morning. Oh, jeez, the stress of this impending date is making me break out. What if I end up looking like the "before" picture in one of those pimple cream commercials? What if he takes one look at me and runs in the opposite direction? What if he starts laughing when he sees me, and says, "Yeah. This is NOT going to happen." What if he takes a picture of me with his camera phone and posts it on a website titled "Girls you should NEVER date"?

My nose feels like it's running. I reach for a Kleenex to blow my nose, and OH DEAR GOD, my nose is BLEEDING! The blood is just GUSHING out of my nose! Now it's getting on my clothes! I look like I should be in a horror movie! I'm one prom dress away from being Carrie!

Thirty-seven tissues later, my nose finally stops bleeding. I wash my face and change my clothes. Is what I'm wearing too revealing? Is it not revealing enough? Maybe I shouldn't button my blouse all the way up to the neck. But I don't want to give him the wrong idea. Maybe I should wear a blouse without buttons. Or maybe I should just cancel the date altogether.

It's a good thing I agreed to meet him at the restaurant. They always say you shouldn't let the guy pick you up on the first date, because he might turn out to be a stalker. What if he is a stalker? What if he got my address somehow and is lurking outside? I better check. Oh no! Is that him across the street? He's WATCHING ME right now and I have to call the police and I'm just going to stay single FOREVER and....oh, wait. That's not him. That's an old woman with her dog. Well. In the dark, it KIND of looked like him.

What if he doesn't like me? What if I don't like him? How long should I let the date last if we don't like each other? Is twenty minutes enough? What are we supposed to do after dinner? Do I suggest drinks? But I don't like to drink alcohol. I can't take him to a bar and only drink soda. Or can I? Maybe I shouldn't drink soda during the date; I'll just end up getting even more hyper. But what if he wants to go to a bar? What if we get to the bar and he dumps me for a go-go dancer? What if he expects me to know how to dance just like a go-go dancer?

I'm ready to go. I just have to put on my shoes and OOPS! I just fell over. I was walking too fast and I tripped on my shoes and what if I do that in front of him? I better not wear a skirt; I don't want to end up revealing TOO much if I do fall over. Then I would DEFINITELY give him the wrong idea.

Okay. Stand up, dust myself off. I can do this. I can spend the evening with a complete stranger who may or may not be some kind of freak who will try to brainwash me into joining his religion where animals rule over humans. Stop. He might be nice. But then again he might be the type of guy who makes me seriously consider joining a convent.

I start walking towards the place where we agreed to meet. What if I show up too early? Maybe I'll just walk around the neighborhood until we're supposed to meet. But then what if he shows up early and sees me walking up and down the street and thinks that I'm trying to ditch him? What if he ditches me? What if he ditches me for the waitress who just happens to moonlight as a go-go dancer?

As I get closer to the restaurant, my hands start sweating and I wipe them off on my clothes. Hopefully that didn't leave a stain. Maybe I shouldn't eat anything. Then I might stain my clothes and he'll think I'm a messy eater and then he'll never call me again. Or maybe he'll be a messy eater, like that guy who sprayed pieces of his salad at me on the last date I went on.

I open the door to the restaurant and look around. What if he doesn't show? Wait...he's here!

He's sitting at a table by the window, and he stands up when he sees me. He holds out his hand. "Hi!" he says.

"Hi," I say. And at that moment, all I feel is....

hope.