Being in the health care field I fully understand the logistical and lawful points of following HPAA guidelines and regulations. I grasp the imperative requirements as well as the essential need for the legality’s that coincide with the HPAA Privacy Rule that our Government instated in January of 1996. It makes perfect sense to me…which is partially why I seldom, if ever make my dates fill out the ‘Health Questionnaire’ that is attached to my dating application. Although there are some notable malady’s that I believe one should inevitably disclose…without having to be asked. For example, if you have contracted any sort of STD, odds are, you should enlighten the person that you’re dating of this viable piece of information. I firmly believe that this sort of thing should be the rule, not the exception.
This brings us to my latest dating escapade…I had met the latest Joe Schmo through work. He was a marketer trying to "retain some of my business"…which he obviously did. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.) On our first date I did find it slightly anomalous that he requested that I drive his car to the restaurant of his choosing, and I heard him mumble something about his drivers license having certain restrictions that limited his access while operating a moving vehicle, but I didn’t say anything as I took the keys and hoped into the drivers seat of his brand new Audi R8 GT. He was so uber-prepared that he had already inputed the directions into his car navigational system which led us promptly to a pretty elite restaurant in the foothills of Deer Valley, that far exceeded any expectation I could have fathomed.
It was one of those particularly swanky places where they feel the need to serve the meal in courses. I detected that halfway through the salad course my date started to yawn incessantly. I knew there wasn’t a chance in the world that I could be the basis of these yawns because I may or may not be the most entertaining person I know. These yawns started becoming so frequent that I almost felt the need to tell our waiter that in no way, shape, or form did I slip anything into his drink to try to drug Mr. Sleepy VonYawnsALot, despite the fact that my skin is brown and I’m used to the whole ‘Racial Profiling Scenario.’
Our soup arrived and I decided to excuse myself to go to the Ladies Room to freshen up a tad. I returned approximately 6.4 minutes later to find Sir Lethargic McNarcolepsy fast asleep, head down, in his soup.
If your date has been diagnosed with Narcolepsy and doesn't bother to disclose this pertinent information...