..is when this thing happens. In my mind, technically, it really is a blind date.
My sister squirmed a bit when I said that to her this afternoon. After all, Muslims don't date.
But really what else is this?
Meeting a prospect at a coffee shop downtown. We've never been formally or informally introduced to each other. He has no clue what I look like, and I have absolutely no idea what he looks like.
All I know is that I'll be on the lookout for a brown guy in his late 20s. Or maybe I'll just be lazy and let him approach me; it would be much easier spotting a hijabi downtown, right?
In any case, it definitely sounds like a blind date to me.
But saying that to myself, is actually making me feel very uneasy. Because there's so much I feel I don't know.
And I hate not knowing. Usually, I have some information. This time, it feels like nothing.
I know his name.
I know what he does for a living.
I know about his education.
I know what town he lives in.
I know that our grandfathers were close friends many, many years ago in India.
And I know that our parents know each other.
That's the extent of it. C'est tout.
And it unnerves me just as much that Google can't even give me any information on this dude! Not a single hit shows up when I search his name. Not even one.
O Google, you have failed me.
And if he's anything like I am, he's likely google-searched me as well. And let's just say that there's A LOT that google can tell you about me. In fact, the first two pages are spot-on. Google will tell you which specific community organisations I'm involved with, and in what capacity. It'll tell you about which high school and universities I graduated from. It'll tell you what my professional qualifications are. And it'll tell you what campus groups I belonged to back in my student days.
All of the sudden, I'm really dreading Wednesday.