I don’t know what I was expecting when my buddy set me up on a blind date with “Brenda.” Maybe someone nice, someone easy to talk to. At the very least, someone who wouldn’t cause my internal alarm bells to sound like a five-alarm fire. But there I was, sitting across from her in a vinyl booth at Golden Corral, wondering how the hell I was going to make it through this dinner.
Brenda was a mountain of a woman. She must’ve been pushing 400 pounds, but that wasn’t what got me. No, it was the way she spoke—with this loud, brash confidence that made people at the surrounding tables stop mid-chew to gawk at us.
“I’m just so proud of my Johnny,” she boomed, stabbing at her pile of fried shrimp. Oil splattered onto the table, barely missing my hand.
“Oh, yeah?” I said, forcing a smile. “What’s he do?”
She leaned forward, her eyes shining like she was about to reveal some incredible secret. “Well, first of all, my Johnny is a collector. Not just any collector, mind you. He collects plushies. Hundreds of them. Maybe even thousands!”
I nodded slowly, trying not to grimace. “Plushies?”
“You know, stuffed animals! Teddy bears, Pokémon, that kinda thing,” she said, waving a greasy hand. “He’s got the biggest collection on the East Coast. It’s practically a museum! And he keeps ‘em all pristine, too—never takes the tags off.”
“That’s... something,” I said, reaching for my water to avoid having to say anything more.
“And that’s not even the best part,” Brenda continued, her voice rising another octave. “My Johnny is famous. Well, internet famous, but still! He’s got 387,000 posts on this hockey forum called HFBoards. They even call him the king of useless threads. Isn’t that amazing?”
I froze mid-sip. Did she just say 387,000 posts?
“Oh yeah,” she went on, oblivious to my widening eyes. “He spends hours every day debating trades, making jokes, and posting pictures of his plushies in team jerseys. He’s been doing it for over twenty years. I don’t know how he comes up with so much to say!”
I set my glass down carefully, trying to process what I was hearing. “So... he’s 45, right? Does he, uh, work?”
Brenda’s face darkened, just for a moment, before she plastered on a too-bright smile. “He doesn’t need to! He’s got his hobbies. Keeps him busy. Besides, he lives at home with me. Always has, always will. It’s just easier that way, you know?”
“Right...” I murmured, glancing around the room for an escape route.
“And he’s so popular on that forum,” she added, popping an entire biscuit into her mouth. “Sometimes, people even send him plushies as gifts. That’s how much they love him. He’s got friends all over the world!”
I stared at her, unsure whether to laugh, cry, or fake a medical emergency to get out of there. “That’s... impressive.”
She beamed, clearly oblivious to my discomfort. “I knew you’d get it. Not everyone does, you know. Some people think Johnny’s a little... eccentric. But I tell them, ‘He’s a genius, and you’re just jealous.’”
“Sure,” I said weakly, pushing my mashed potatoes around my plate.
By the time dessert rolled around, I was mentally drafting excuses for why I’d never be able to see Brenda again. Maybe I’d tell her I was moving to a remote island with no internet. Or joining the Peace Corps.
As she dug into her third slice of cheesecake, she looked up at me with a conspiratorial grin. “You know, Johnny’s been saying he needs a male role model in his life. Someone to teach him about... man stuff. You’d be perfect.”
I nearly choked on my coffee. “Uh, wow. That’s... quite the compliment. But I don’t think—”
“Oh, come on,” she said, waving her fork at me. “You’d get along great. I bet he’d even let you hold one of his plushies. That’s a real honor, you know.”
I nodded, my face locked in a rictus of politeness. As soon as the check arrived, I practically threw cash on the table and bolted.
Walking to my car, I made a silent vow to never, ever let my friends set me up on a blind date again. And as for Brenda and her son, the self-proclaimed king of useless threads? Let’s just say that’s one family reunion I’ll gladly miss.