Playdate Shmaydate

Have I mentioned that I'm kinda' antisocial? No? I'm the mom who, when attending a birthday party for my child's classmate, would rather go hide in a corner and read a book. Or rifle through my purse. Or stare at my hands. Anything rather than actually try to make small talk with another parent. Because I'm not good at small talk. I say things that I myself find totally and completely amusing, but in retrospect, they are only amusing to me. Or people who know me really well. Which leads me to my current dilemma...
A mom of one of Little J's classmates stopped me while we were picking up our kids after school. She proceeded to tell me that her daughter "talks about Little J all the time", and that "we should get them together for a playdate." I smiled, made the appropriate noises, and exchanged numbers. And felt like a girl being asked out on a first date. My palms were sweaty, my heart raced, and I felt light-headed.
What in the hell am I supposed to do on a playdate? The kids play, yeah, but that means I have to talk to her mom. I'll start blathering on about something I find witty, or make a "witty" comment, and from then it's all downhill because I can't shut my fucking mouth! The playdate will end in uncomforatble silence with fake promises of, "Oh, we'll have to do this again soon!", but we won't mean it. We'll go our seperate ways and Other Mom will subtly hint to her daughter about another little girl in her class who looks like a good friend. The next time we bump into each other picking up the children, there'll be embarrassed smiles and talk about how busy we've been, and gosh isn't the weather nice today.
I am not a Playdate Mom, I'm the Drop My Kid Off and Sit In the Car Mom.