Doctor, Doctor

Being set up on blind dates is a good way to find out what your friends really think of you. They may treat you well to your face, but whom among their social circle do they see as a match for your charming idiosyncrasies? That, ladies, tells you more than you want to know about how they truly feel.

Blondie had to seriously ponder this issue when it was arranged for her to meet the anesthesiologist colleague of a nurse friend. A well-meaning fellow, he proved numb to Blondie's admittedly high privacy preferences, querying long and loudly over dinner at a very small table placed absurdly close to the next pair of seafood lovers. As if in a social coma, he battered her with different versions of "What are you looking for in a relationship, Blondie? Blondie, what would you like in your future?" The questions were slightly aggressive for a first intro, but it was the volume of his investigation and the repetition of her name that made her wish she had a tank of laughing gas and an ergonomic mask -- for herself or for him, she would happily let him choose! Alas, she was sufficiently dazed by the force of his desensitization that she couldn't quite muster a "Please, hush!" nor a "What I would really like is for the couple next to us to hear every gory detail of my future trip!"

The date ended cordially, Blondie's embarrassment subsiding once they left the table. More importantly, she eventually was reassured that the nurse pal probably didn't hate her. After all, as the friend pointed out, "He seems so different when he's in his scrubs."