Shortly after I was elected president of Witt AZA one of the last orders of business Steve P had to preside over was the selection of the chapter sweetheart. In other chapters the completely democratic process known as who is dating the current or in-coming president, or failing that who has been dating one of our members for the past few months did this. In Witt since no one ever had more than three dates with the same girl this problem never entered the picture.
Now, in all honesty I have no idea whose name may have been offered in the selection process. If the selection took place while Donna and I were seeing each other I can be grateful she wasn’t selected. As it turned out we chose a rosy-cheeked blonde named Joy who through her vivacious smile, bubbling exuberance, and lack of a conceited bone her body endeared herself to our group of mostly self conscious sweaty palmed nervous nerds. All right, I’m not talking about Steve P, M, Brad, and a few others, but the rest of us were, making us all the more excited to have her as our sweetheart.
Another factor, which I am quite sure was merely coincidence, were Joy and Donna were in the same BBG chapter. Though I am not sure to what extent they shared a friendship this fact meant they saw each other at regular meetings and many social activities. It also meant Joy was likely to know quite soon after Beau Dance that Donna and I were no longer seeing each other.
One of the social activities their chapter organized every year was attending the fireworks on the lakefront. Since my days in elementary school one of my favorite holidays has always been the Fourth of July. In Milwaukee, dating back to the time when Schlitz Brewing Company was a major local employer and civic pride developer, there were cutting-edge fireworks the night of the third and a huge circus wagon parade the morning of the fourth. People marched folding chairs and blankets in hand for miles to get a spot on the hillsides or in the park to watch the sky fill with colors.
So, when I heard Joy’s excited voice on the phone I was hoping she was calling to invite me to see the fireworks. She was, only not with her. She wanted to know if I would go with someone named Mimi. Wow, a Jewish girl with a French name. The only French person who came to mind besides Charles de Gaulle was Brigitte Bardot.
All Joy would tell me was she thought Mimi was cute but a little shy. Compared to Joy most people I knew might appear shy. What mattered to me most was she was an attractive girl who Donna and her friends would see me with and know I had recovered and was back in the game.
My mother always told me beauty was in the eye of the beholder. She was right. Unfortunately for Mimi whatever beauty Joy was hoping I would see vanished when I picked up a quiet dark haired girl who reminded me more of de Gaulle than Bardot. After saying next to nothing in the car as we crawled through traffic, and even less as we walked to the park, I hoped against hope we would not see Donna.
Of course, despite the thousands of people who dotted the hillside there she was looking through his telescope at the grounds below holding the pyrotechnic display. Mimi suddenly came alive and started shouting out to her. I calmly said hello to Dennis.
We found a spot and laid out the blanket. As bright bursts of light whistled through the air I kept asking myself what she saw in him. He wasn’t as funny, intelligent, or good looking as me. Poor Mimi, she never stood a chance.
Did you ever have a blind date? How did it go? Tell us in the comment section.
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