The Nipple Affect

My friends stopped setting me up on blind dates years ago. They thought I was too picky. I thought they weren't selective enough. Time and again they would select 'really nice guys' and time and again I would find fault. Not tall enough. Not good-looking enough. Not funny enough. Too stupid. Hate his shorts. Don't like his mom.

You get the idea.

In any case, when I was about 21 a good friend of mine invited me out for brunch with her and her boyfriend (whom I liked) and his "friend". Since my friend was fairly particular when it comes to men, I figured that this was at least worth a shot. After all, it was a free brunch.

So there we were, the four of us, awkwardly staring at each other one Sunday morning while I was home from University. I picked at the lint on my sweater and thought about my upcoming Chemistry exam that I was certain to fail. We ordered. The awkwardness ensued.

I sat across from a very good-looking and very eager guy. The eagerness was what did him in. His conversational skills were also lacking. But on paper he looked good. Job in finance. Smart. Tall (this is a big one for me). Handsome. Sense of humour. But there was no chemistry.

And then I did what we all do sometimes -- I started to see if there was a way that maybe I could make this work. Maybe I just needed to get to know him better? Maybe he's shy?

Many years later I realized that this stenography of excuses would never lead me down the path that I wanted to go. Either it works or it doesn't. Either you click or you don't. Relationships are hard enough when both people click and are running towards each other -- you shouldn't have to force it in the beginning.

This is now my mantra.

But in any case, there we were, having an okay time, with an okay guy, on an okay morning. Not a complete waste of time I suppose. And then it happened. A cool breeze swept past our table and my prospective date's nipples began to show themselves. And I realized that his white t-shirt was in fact, underwear.

And that was it. That was my dealbreaker. That was all I needed to bury any potential of ever talking to this okay person again.

As we walked back to my friend's car she asked me with sheer excitement, "So....what do you think?". And I said, quite bluntly; "His nipples were showing through his shirt at the table". She dismissed me at first and said, "So maybe his shirt is a bit tight. He might have borrowed it from [her boyfriend] because he stayed over last night".

And I repeated myself; "His nipples showed through his shirt!".

She stopped and looked at me - realizing that I didn't want to pursue him any further.

"You're serious?" she said.

"Yes". It seemed fairly black and white to me.

"But he has a good job, and he's goooood-looking" she pleaded. But there was no point. I had already written him off in my mind. And so, I said the only thing I could say, "But his nih-pulls were showw-wing through his shirt".

We drove the rest of the way home in silence. That was the last time that she or any of my friends ever set me up with someone they thought would be good for me.