Dear Mr Blind Date, Are You Mr Right? (Completed)

Standoff

"Mum, this is absolutely the last time I'm ever doing this," I growl. It was time for a stand-off with the Queen of Darkness a.k.a my mother.

"Chloe," Mum laughs, waving her newly manicured hands. "Going on blind dates is not a torture. It's part and parcel of life. Why, I went for so many blind dates when I was a young lady."

"Maybe that's why you were never able to settle down and left Dad," I retort.

Mum gasps. We have always agreed to never mention THE NAME. In other words, I basically broke all rules and protocol by bringing up my neither-here-nor-there Dad whose features I no longer recall since the last time I saw him was when I was aged 8 years old. Rumor has it that he left with a bar hostess but the truth was, Mum's endless flings drove him mad and he just dumped his belongings into his battered old canvas bag and left one night. Honestly, I don't blame him at all.

"How on earth did I end up with such a...a evil creature!" Mum screeches, her eyes swimming with emotion and fake tears.

I roll my eyes. Mum used to be a part-time actress contracted with a local theatrical company. It goes without saying that she never achieved the fame and fortune that Angelina Jolie had but she still seemed to have this delusion that she was a famous actress. Maybe denial was the way to go. For me and for her.

"Spare me your theatrical tactics." I frown. "I'm only 28. I'm still young."

"You would be left on the shelf!" she screams. "Your good friend, Evelyn, married when she was 25 and she now has 3 sons! THREE!" She emphasises the number by holding up 3 fingers and waving it obnoxiously in front of my face.

Please. She always uses the same argument all the time. Evelyn Banson's my good friend and we go a long way back. I used to spent numerous nights in university partying with her and well, we were wild. There was no use denying the fact. Evelyn went through so many men that the number of one-night stands she had was....uncountable. She got tamer after settling down with Berry, a boss of a gardening company, and becoming a housewife. Nonetheless, we still got together time to time to have some alcohol and booze.

"Evelyn was lucky to meet the right guy," I reply. "I still haven't found my Mr.Right."

"There's no such thing as Mr. Right, Chloe." Mum purses her lips disapprovingly. "What matters is his social standing, status and background."

"Ya-da. Ya-da."

"When are you going to make me stop worrying about you, Chloe?"

"Look, I've a steady job, good friends and a place to live in. Do you know there're many homeless people New York who would literally kill to be in my situation?"

"Your apartment!" Mum's eyes widen with astonishment. She surveys my flat and laughs loudly. "Your so-called "apartment" is basically a small studio with no facilities or whatsoever. You didn't even properly design or furnish it."

Ok. That's clearly enough. It's not as if I asked for this. If it had been up to me, I would have bought a mansion and enjoy my own swimming pool and garden. But real life doesn't go that way. With my meagre pay, I could only settle for this grotty little flat and the only furnishings here came from the previous owner who clearly didn't have much designing sense either.

"And your job!" Mum continues, oblivious to my internal thoughts. "You're an interior designer who hasn't even opened up your firm! And what atrocious designing you've here. You call yourself a proper interior designer?"

Ouch. That stings. Mum has pretty lofty aspirations about me opening a firm and becoming a boss of my own. But do you know how much it costs to open your own company? I would have to keep eatin ginstant noodles for the rest of my life to come up with the down payment and I'm NOT going to compromise my food to make my lunatic Mum happy.