Satirical Blind Date Contract

Many years ago I wrote a satirical blind date agreement entitled Bracing For That Blind Date. It turns out, oddly enough, that some people actually sign serious pre-date contracts.

Here’s how my more light-hearted contract begins:

Bracing For That Blind Date
By Madeleine Begun Kane

Are you facing yet another blind date with fear and dread? Are you tempted to throttle anyone who cajoles you into going out with an allegedly attractive friend? Believe it or not, blind dates can actually be fun. All you have to do is work out a few details in advance:

AGREEMENT entered into this ____ day of ______, 20__ by two jittery people hereinafter referred to as “Male” and “Female”.

WHEREAS, a mutual friend is nagging Male and Female to go out on a date;

WHEREAS, Male and Female loathe blind dates and believe that people foolish enough to go out on them deserve whatever they get;

WHEREAS, their mutual friend assures Male and Female that they both have wonderful personalities;

WHEREAS, Male and Female would rather undergo root canal than date, but it is the only way they know to get their friend off their backs; and

WHEREAS, Male and Female believe that a pre-date agreement will minimize the pain and suffering normally associated with blind dates.

NOW, THEREFORE, Male and Female hereby agree to the following blind date terms: … (My blind date contract continues here.)

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2 Responses to “Satirical Blind Date Contract”

  1. Dr. Grumpy says:

    That is great. I wish I had that when I was single and doing the blind-dating fun.

  2. Steve Nance says:

    This is great, Mad!

    My only blind dates were actually pretty contractual, the “mutual friend” being a dating service (which, I hasten to add, I would never have considered had they not cold-called me at a time when I was a sufficiently desperate, 39-year-old bachelor, with a little bit of spare cash with which to say what the hell).

    The first one went pretty much according to your contract, and ended, amicably but by mutual acknowledgement of non-into-ness, right after dinner. Nice young woman, attractive, but let’s face it, a bit too normal.

    Then they gave me a card with particulars on a woman describing herself as African-American, 5’11-1/2″, a six-year-old daughter, and into country music and pro wrestling.

    Well, that’s hardly how I would have described my own interests, but come what may, I at least had to meet this person! (As it turned out, she was also into books of all kinds, social justice, and lots of other cool stuff). This was also her second card, the first being another white guy who may have been intimidated by her stature. (“This poor guy, I could have eaten him for breakfast,” she reported.) But I was okay with showing up in my own unimposing, ectomorphic 5’9″ frame.

    We had lunch, dated, popped the question a year later, had another beautiful daughter, and just celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary. Ya never know.

    Thanks for the nostalgic trip to singles-land.