Double D is Not Always a Good Thing

(And now that I have your attention, read on...)

(Published in City Express, The New Indian Express, dated 5th December 2007)

In a city which has so much to offer couples, from concerts to cosy, deserted streets, from couple seats in theatres to long walks by the seashore, single women are quite obviously tempted on occasion to break out of their singledom, and experiment with the D-word. Unfortunately, the decision most often results in DDs (Disastrous Dates), but the good thing about DDs is that they’re a great laugh when one sits down with the other SFFs (Single Female Friends). And the great thing about DDs is that technology has spawned a fresh breed of them. The penetration of Orkut into every system connected to the internet has breathed new life into the hitherto “bleaaaahhhh.....zzzzzzzzzzzzzz” world of DDs. Where you used to die of boredom while some swaggering Mr. Desperate who hasn’t been on a date in five years tried to convince you he’s had 15 girlfriends, and dumped the last one because she was way too clingy, and jealous because four other women were hitting on him, now you get entertained by someone who has read your Orkut profile the previous evening, believes everything it says and is out to subtly bring out that no two people have ever had more in common. What follows is the story of one such DD.

So I walk into Bike and Barrel to see this person (who’s asked me to a drink at a get-together at a friend’s friend’s friend’s place) pretending not to have noticed me yet, while he examines a couple of CDs he has just taken out of a Landmark bag.

“Oh! Hi!” he says, looking surprised, “so you’re right on time! Most girls are usually late...I hate it when people are not punctual.”

“I hate it when people generalise.”

“Really??? Me too! Hey, check out these CDs I bought. Have you heard of Blue Oyster Cult?”

“Yeah, they’re one of my favourites!” I’m beginning to get pretty excited – this is going to be a great story for the girls. “My favourite song is Oedipus’ Last Breath.” (To date, I don’t know if such a song exists).

“You’re kidding me, right? No way! That’s my favourite too!”

Over the course of the evening, I discover that we both like the same drink, the same football team, the same movies, the same actors, the same writers, and guess what! Our favourite book is One Hundred Years of Solitude by Salman Rushdie! To top that off, we’ve both missed trains in Bombay (that’s what tends to happen when your Orkut page has a link to your blog), and both of us were infuriated when David Beckham left Arsenal for Barcelona. But what clinched it was this – both of us were gloating inside about being the messer, while the other was the messee.

The only thing we did not share was our mobile numbers, but my date suggested that with so much in common, maybe one day we would share the same landline. That innovative flirtation was the icing on the DD cake, and I was all geared up for the final cherry – the emasculation of the DD-Perpretator by insisting on paying the bill.

And then, quite unexpectedly, came the chocolate flakes and praline – “I really like independent women. But I’m paying next time, okay?”

So he thought there was going to be a next time. Well, finally! – something we didn’t have in common!