James Corden fixed me up on a date and here’s what happened
They say true love strikes when you’re least expecting it. Which means if ever there was a time for true love to strike me, it would have been when I pulled into the CBS parking lot for a taping of The Late Late Show With James Corden.
No one was expecting to fall in love less than I was on that day.
I had, in fact, just been thinking about how to break the news to my mom that I had concluded I would probably never get married and would instead die alone. I’ve had a tough road lately as far as men go and I wanted her to stop getting her hopes up for me.
But fate was planning to try its hardest to prove me wrong. Fate’s instrument? The “Carpool Karaoke” king himself, James Corden.
In hindsight, I’ve concluded that it must have been Corden’s eye contact that got me. His eye-contact game is next-level. I’m sure it has made many a woman before me do things she didn’t intend.
Whatever it was, somehow I ended up walking out of CBS Studios that night with a date.
The cameras were rolling when Corden asked the question.
“Are you single?” We made eye contact and I knew the question was directed at me. He was looking for a match for another audience member — a Canadian doctor who had been selected for a game. Fate was calling and I picked up the phone.
“I am,” I volunteered, adding, “I’m also Canadian.”
I then admitted to being wide open. I meant my schedule. I regret this admission the most. It wasn’t embarrassing because people mistook it for a sexual innuendo (you nasties!); rather, it was because everyone in L.A. knows you never admit to having no plans. A key to succeeding in L.A. social life is to always be “busy.” Corden made the doctor play the game with me while vowing to set us up on a date at a nice restaurant after the taping. The doctor seemed nice enough, but no one in L.A. is good about follow-through, so I didn’t expect Corden to make good on his promise. But Corden did follow through and about 24 hours later, there was an e-mail in my inbox with the subject line “Dinner On James.” That’s how I ended up at Catch LA on a real date with the doctor himself. “I’m so glad someone is buying you dinner,” my mom said after hearing the news. I knew I needed to rise to the occasion. This was a moment for false eyelashes, which aren’t a simple decision. They’re a serious commitment to looking good and I wanted to make a good impression. I was fashionably late and ordered a fun cocktail instead of the boring old house white wine — my typical order whenever I dine out. I had been sifting through the ashes of my previous dating experiences and decided not ordering enough fun cocktails might have been part of my problem. I also didn’t do anything disastrous or commit another faux pas, like admitting I have no serious plans for the foreseeable future. The doctor took care of the ordering since he was passionate about the menu and wanted almost everything. Possessing an unrefined palate, I let the doctor have free rein with our order. But I became terribly anxious that the bill he was racking up was going to sink the show’s budget.
I reminded him our tab was being picked up by The Late Late
Show — emphasis on the two “lates.”
I have no idea what the budget for the show is, but at this point, I was beginning to think of James as an old friend. And I wanted to leave some room in his benevolence fund in case I need him to set me up again.
Because that might be needed — despite my best efforts, at the end of the date, the doctor dashed all my hopes against the language barrier.
“You don’t speak the same language as my parents,” he said, explaining that would make communicating with them problematic.
“That’s too bad,” I said. And I meant it because I kind of liked him. Or maybe it was just the idea of him. You never know in these situations.
So, thanks for dinner, James. But next time, could you please set me up with someone who won’t try to make me pass the mom test on the first date?
My schedule’s wide open.