Now, how to get that date.

Yes, I know I should have had this all worked out by now but first I thought it important to find the perfect person to go on the date with. I know, perfect here, is relative after all.

I had to find a person who I clicked with, who got my lame jokes and who thought I was wonderful. Don’t look at me that way. I know, we are all looking for some one who thinks we are wonderful and trust me, a chat room is the perfect place to find someone who thinks you are wonderful.

In cyberspace everyone is perfect. Every one smells like they just walked through flowers or are musky with some scent only they know the secret ingredients to.

In cyberspace, no one has broken teeth or limited eye vision.

In cyberspace, no one is broke. We are all rich! We all roll in dollar dollar bills!

SO how to tell the really nice guy from the crap? Well, you spend time talking to the person of course, if their story doesn’t change and they are not in some fanatical hurry to get into your pants, you are onto something. Well this is assuming, again, that you do not want your pants jumped into.

I will not bore you with how many frogs I had to “kiss” to find my date. I will rush now to tell you about the date.

I did nothing out of the ordinary. I am one of those people who believe in the whole “be yourself” theory. If I meet you in my jeans and Tee’s and you like me, I will make you proud one day when it finally crosses my mind to wear a dress.

I never want to be accused of being that girl who dresses up to catch a man and then could care less when the man is caught. I would rather shock you some day by “cleaning” up.

So, the date. I met him at rock night. Yes. Lumumba Avenue. In the midst of millions of rock happy Ugandans.

I was in my overly abused black jumper, pink shirt and pink lined jeans chilling with my friends. He was in a preppy sweater over white shirt and grey dress pants.

He had described himself as a nerd. I was some what shocked that he did not have limited vision.

The deal was I had to buy him the most expensive drink in the joint. When we asked the waiter, it turned out the most expensive drink in the joint was tusker malt larger (I think it’s called). We laughed ourselves silly over that. The ice, as they say, was broken.

We chatted for about 30 minutes, it was close to my curfew, I had to leave. I laughed so much and so hard that night. I decided it was like at first chat.

We hang a bit after that. We declared ever lasting love to each other after that. Sigh.

You must be wondering how I rushed this date. I wonder as well. Maybe I’m subconsciously encouraging you to go out there and go on a blind date. My theory is… you have nothing to loose, so why not?