Never Fall for Your Enemy by Kate O’Keeffe
Who likes blind dates? Anyone? Yeah, that’s what I thought. They’re super awkward and they rarely go well. I mean, you get your hopes up until they’re jostling with the clouds, only for them to come crashing back down into the weeds when you find out the guy is an idiot, a psychopath, a jerk—or all of the above. I guess the one saving grace of having Google at your fingertips is that you never have to go into a blind date truly blind. The only problem for me right now is, the guy I’m about to meet is some kind of 90s throwback. No Instagram, no Tik Tok, no Snapchat. Not even an old person’s Facebook profile. I’m going in blind, people, and it does not feel good. But still, here I sit, on a hard wooden chair in a quaint London pub, Celine Dion belting out that her heart will go on even when Leonardo di Caprio is long gone. And you know what I do? I do what I do every time. I get my hopes up.