The Rules of Blind Dating

We start with our wildly intelligent and vivacious girl in Dipietro's Café; ok, this lovely girl is me. Why was I in such a reflective mood? I had just extricated myself from my 120th blind date. And why was I, a smart, successful, otherwise entirely fulfilled star, letting love get me down? Because failure hits singularly and hard. No matter the victories before and after, the disappointment lingers like the smell of burnt popcorn or, in this case, burnt coffee.

Do not fear my darling Chiclets, because we are going to go over the tried and true rules to finding love, my roadmap for the lost hearts and lonely minds. So, buckle up and keep all arms and legs inside until the ride comes to a complete stop.

Rule number 1: Keep it to the inner circle.

Let's take a moment to define the terminology. What is the inner circle?

The inner circle is relatively easy to define through a series of simple questions:

1. You need to bury a dead body (let's not get into why); who is holding the shovel next to you? Answer: inner circle.

2. Everything has gone wrong and you hate all people. Who is sitting quietly on the couch next to you, refilling your wine glass after each sip? Answer: inner circle.

3. Half-way through your first scorpion bowl, you were sure you needed a second scorpion bowl. Who is holding your hair back while you vomit and never once saying I told you so? Answer: inner circle.

Note: parents, grandparents, siblings, co-workers, doormen, and that overly inquisitive Uber driver, are not in your inner circle. There is an essential balance to the inner circle in that they see you in the present (not the adorable little girl that threw-up after the Tilter-Whirl), but also pretend they don't know behind-the-curtain you (no one wakes up with perfect hair and their eyes pre-lined, oh to dream though). Despite the constant attempts, do not accept a setup from a non-inner circle member. As a matter of fact...

Rule number 2: Do not accept a setup from a non-inner circle member.

Please refer above.

Rule number 3: Do not exchange numbers in advance.

I repeat, do not exchange numbers in advance. One more time, do not exchange numbers in advance. You know what happens if you exchange numbers in advance; they ALWAYS have your number. Best case scenario, the date goes great, you shove over on the door, and Jack survives the Titanic. Worst case, he keeps calling and texting. It starts light with a check-in text the next day. You nicely decline his advances. But the texts keep coming. Ghosting doesn't work; he starts calling. Then you begin to get the drunken middle of the night rant voice mails. Eventually, you are forced to sprawl out on the world's most enormous door and watch poor dear Jack float into the cold depths of the Atlantic. It was the only way to get him to stop calling.

Rule number 3: Meet in neutral territory.

My go-to is the local coffee shop, ideally on Thursdays between 5:30 pm and 7:30 pm. Why so specific? Well, my favorite barista works on Thursdays until 8 pm, meaning I will have a friendly face near for whatever lies ahead. He always knows what drink I need. I will wander in with a hurricane of anxiety that I could be meeting my potential soulmate and annoyance that I have once again let myself be set up, and there will be Trevor. One look at me, and he will begin my order. But I haven't ordered yet, right? No, I have not; because I don't know what I need. I will think that I need a Caramel Macchiato to quell my mood, but when he slides me an herbal tea that hits both sweet and sour notes, I am revived into my best self. Find a Trevor; never let Trevor go.

Rule number 4: Always have an exit strategy.

This is crucial. There is a decent chance that this date will go poorly. I mean, hopefully not Titanic sinking poorly, but every story starts somewhere. And yes, you can say that my pessimism is setting me up for failure, but really, I am just realistic. So, always have an exit strategy. I am not a fan of the friend calling; it is too overdone. I like to lay the groundwork early by dropping a subtle exit story. "Hey, have you tried the new restaurant X? I went for lunch today. The ambiance was gorgeous, but the food tasted a little iffy." Cut to when the date is a lost cause and you can slyly clutch your stomach and say, "I think I have food poisoning." Nothing, and I mean nothing, will shut down a date like even the faintest hint of diarrhea.

However, if you are too shy to feign a stomach bug, find a Trevor. On numerous occasions, my superhero barista has swooped in to end even the worst of dates. Today, I was stuck across a shrinking table with a man that 1) smelled like cheese, 2) missed the food poisoning hint, and 3) began to tell me his own food poisoning stories (that's right multiple stories) in great detail. Trevor did what had to be done; in one swift movement, he "accidentally" dumped a cup of water all over me and then whisked me away to help me dry off. He even returned to my date to say that I had been so embarrassed that I had escaped out the back door... date over.

Rule 5: Why are you listening to me about dating rules? I just ended my 120th date!

So, all those rules I just laid out... forget them. They are the rules that I developed, and they worked for me, but maybe they won't work for you. What I can tell you about my practices is that they did lead to love. After roughly 120 blind dates, I found my forever today. Well, actually, it was really after only about 20 blind dates that I met the man of my dreams; it just took me 100 more to realize it. But tonight, as I sip the most delicious balance of rich espresso and silky milk, I can say that the stinky cheese man led me to my love.

After I had dried off from my most recent dating disaster, I returned to the front of the shop, hoping not to see my date. Of course, he was gone due to my knight-in-shining apron.

"Have you ever had a cortado?" Trevor asked with a cheeky smile that was just short of tipping far enough to embarrass me from my latest escapade.

"Not if you haven't made one for me." I settled into one of the now-closed shop's chairs, feeling a bit comber from my most recent dating attempt. I listened to the symphony of the espresso machine. "What is it?" I asked as the milky drink slid before me.

"A cortado is a shot of espresso mixed with hot milk. It's a Spanish drink." He settled into the chair across from me. A tiny sip sent my tastebuds soaring. Trevor let out a laugh. "You like it." I nodded as I took a second sip. "You have the most expressive eyes." He mused almost to himself.

It was the beginning of my last first date in that local coffee shop, but certainly not my last cortado. So, you see, my rules both worked and didn't work. The constraints I had set for myself pulled me to Trevor over and over again. In a way, we had already been on 120 dates before we went on our first. I guess there is only one rule:

The Only Rule: Find your Trevor, never let your Trevor go.