Perspective is key. It determines whether the glass is full, whether a rainy day is a blessing, and whether that blind date is worth your attention. The purpose of this exercise is to see how this key principle of life applies to characters in a fictional setting. When looking at the same scene through different perspectives, it is clear how biased — and, therefore, human — narrators can truly be.
This exercise is meant to demonstrate my creative writing, written communication, critical thinking, and emotional intelligence skills.
The Blind Date
My thumb rubbed the top of my naked ring finger. It was aging, thinning, weathering, but, most importantly, it was naked. And that called for drastic measures.
I had never been on a blind date before; I never needed to. I was always pretty enough to land a normal one without people needing to be locked in a romantically-lit room with me. I had a lot of great times on those dates, too. Really great times with really handsome, not-blind-date material men. My ring finger quivered. Guess we see how that turned out. Drastic measures.
The door gently opened, weakly, as if the wind pushed it open and not a human hand. A man’s hand.
Oh, God, look at his face. He’s so…
My heart thudded as he stepped closer, politely skimming the room to make sure he’s found who he was looking for.
…cute!
Big eyes, fit figure, confident outfit, nervous smile. He cared, I could already tell. What a nice change of pace. And being cute doesn’t hurt.
I could barely contain my girlish squeals as he meekly inched into the chair across from me. He squinted his eyes flirtatiously. I return the squint, lashes spotting my vision.
“You’re Krista, right?”
My teeth shone through my lips and I bobbed my head up and down. “It is so nice to meet you, Cameron.”
His eyes continually hid from mine like a bashful rose swaying in the wind. Blush accented my smile. He was just what I needed. I could practically feel my clothed finger already: us at the edge of thirty, two kids with the nicest manners in the nicest home in the suburbs. Everything I ever wanted and all before it’s too late to start. My fingers eased. Maybe we could age, thin, and weather together.
Cameron was the definition of a blind-date man; the kind only given a second glance when forced across a person respectful enough to finish dinner before breaking the news. He stood in front of the doors for ten minutes to make sure he wouldn’t get there first. (He’d likely have to start the conversation if he did. This way, she can start it as he sits down and orders a glass of water.) On the ten minute mark, he opened them.
He froze. That woman, the one sitting alone at the table for two, the hot one, she couldn’t possibly be waiting for me? Her eyes locked on his and refused to let go. Crap. He specifically asked for a desperate date that wouldn’t laugh at him or use him for a free dinner, so, of course, he got one that would. Those jerks that set him up were probably laughing nearby behind suspiciously-massive menus.
She looked at him with this gleam of humor restrained behind her eyes, probably judging his plain T-shirt or his bony legs. She undoubtedly dated guys with biceps larger than him. Still, she was looking at him; it was too late to run. Dreadfully, he sunk into the chair across from her.
She just stared, eyes wide with unsaid opinions. God. She’s going to make me say the first words, isn’t she? This just kept getting worse.
“You’re Krista, right?” he squeaked. God.
Her teeth spat into a wide grin and she nodded. God, even her teeth are perfect. Pearly white, full, excellent shape. Cameron wrapped his lips around his far-too-boxy-and-mildly-yellow teeth. Another source of ridicule.
“It is so nice to meet you, Cameron,” she taunted.
Cameron darted his eyes away. This is a joke, right? It has to be. So why doesn’t she just laugh and get it over with? She wouldn’t actually go out with someone like me, so there’s no reason to empty my wallet for her.
Her eyes glazed over and she mindlessly rubbed her ring finger. She must have some rash there or something. Maybe… she isn’t totally perfect. Her eyes flickered back into life as his seized from dodging them. A wide, satisfied smile melted onto her face. Cameron swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe he wasn’t totally imperfect either.
