I have a date.
A real date.
A date on Saturday at a restaurant I selected.
I haven't been on a date in over seven years.
I have never been on a blind date.
And I have certainly never had a blind date pick me up.
I may throw up. I am worried that my overall lack of enthusiasm for the set-up will radiate through me all evening.
I want to give it a fair shot. I know I should.