Blind Dates and Face-Kinis

Have any of you heard of this? Imagine wearing one of these to a blind date?

Because it’s not weird enough to wear it at the beach, let’s take it a step further and wonder just how astonishing it would be to wear it on a blind date. Which, have you ever been on a blind date?

I have. Many, in fact. My favourite being that one time my blind date — then a volunteer at a community center for at-risk youth — lectured me about the different ‘levels’ of rape and how so many of the girls cried it. In an honest state of panic, I stared at all 6’4″ of his stacked body and drilled through my options on how to best get the f/ck out of dodge without having to get back in his car. Because I am totally stealth and should have been a spy, I cried and pretended that my contact lens had crawled up into my brain and I needed to go home. I had called a cab and was out the door faster than the time it takes to rip off a woman’s skirt.

Quite possibly, the most brutal and exhausting evenings spent have been on blind dates. This, because folks responsible for blind dates possess a concentrated form of stupidity, their markers for compatibility consisting of two people et puis fin. I mean, I guess it’s good that no one has suggested bestiality yet.

Back to the face-kini which brings to mind my deep hatred of engagement photos. Actually, it’s a hatred for a particular type of engagement photo, depicting two assholes standing back-to-back and smiling for the camera like they’ve just discovered that unicorns actually exist and are currently holding their 42nd Annual Meeting wherein they shall decide whether or not to boycott goods from Apartheid Israel. Unequivocally, there is always at least one photo in the series where the man’s face is nowhere to be seen. He is told to make like a prop while the female stares with great hysteria into the camera willing herself to believe that she is some sort of an amoeba who will marry and procreate in isolated solitude. I imagine a definite allegory for the state of said relationship in 10…9…8…

Also unequivocally? Almost every single one of these women will choose that one particular photo as her Facebook profile picture.

In case you reside under a rock (with internets!), here’s three samples for you:

Amazing, yes? Especially the last one where the gent has clearly already begun filling out the divorce papers.

Not so fast though, because nothing — and I really mean this from the bottom of my heart — nothing is more amazing than this astonishing true-to-life re-enactment of the Christian story of Adam and Eve. You know it, I know it, he knows it, the sad little snake knows it:

Is he weeping? Did he tuck himself in? Did she force him to wax? Are they wearing body make-up? Did they get their hair did? Are they vegetarians? Were they cold? Did she show this to her mum? Did he? Why can’t I see his feet? I have so many questions which, surely on Judgement Day, God’s going to be all “For real? BOOM! Thou spenst thoust most importanteth timeth contemplating such? BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!” (I can’t speak God but am certain there will be many crashing noises when He thinks you are a dumbass.)

I imagine the lead-up conversation to these images: Baby I love you let’s get married but first let’s celebrate our love by not having you in the picture. HA HA HA. No seriously. Pass the broccoli rolled in kale and oats. Praise Goddess. (PAGANS!! CALL ME!!)**

And please. Don’t get me started on the engagement pics taken around ‘romantic’ dilapidated houses because nothing says ‘bright sunshiny future’ like moldy ruins.

Another natural transition, let’s now walk over to the world of Zombies. Why zombies? Because if my piece is an idiot who forces me to take engagement pictures (eww!) a variation of this series is the only option I am willing to negotiate. For serious, because I can not. Not under any circumstance. Imagine posing love or adoration. That someone captures it without my knowing is something entirely different; but the idea of a posed shot sends me into a fit of laughter. Not to mention, I am a girl who believes that some things are best served behind closed doors. (Charlie Rich, I love you.)

All of the above to illustrate the following one simple truth — that I think in explosions and am prone to distractions during any given thought. Usually, there can be approximately twelve different vines on which anyone chatting with me could swing (in order to reach another twelve). I have convinced myself that this is fun. And how much?




When allowed to meet its full potential without restraint.

Do you like penguins? They can’t walk backwards which is sad and look! A vine!


Engagement photos courtesy of Awkward Family Photos (dot) com

**No Wiccans were hurt in the drafting of this article.