My Fault

Most of these disasters are the date being bad. Mine is a disaster because I messed up. I went on a blind date set up by a friend. She was sure we would be prefect for each other. I agreed to meet him at a popular restaurant that had a bar in it as well. I got there early and, suffering from a bad case of nerves, went into the bar and ordered a drink. He was late, so I had a few more drinks. By the time he got there, I was more than a little tipsy and acting like a fool. He called me a cab because I was too drunk to drive, and never called me again. I can't blame him; it was my own fault.

— Heather, 24

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