Bad Dates Start Early

2/16/2010 Rachel 0 Comments

So. This date is from high school. And while this exposé is dedicated to dating at BYU, I will say that this is by far my worst date, even when compared to all of the crummy ones that I have had in all my years attending university.

Let us start at the beginning, shall we?

Mr. Can O Cheese Whiz developed a little crush on me on a stake youth activity. When senior year started, the fates put us in a class together. He parked his toosh in the desk right next to mine. Over the course of the year, he kept pestering me to go out with him. I never flat out denied him, but I was not going to arrange the dreaded thing. Finally, he asked me for reals in the spring. To his surprise I insisted we double with mutual friends. To my surprise, he was surprised that I would suggest such a thing. I also insisted that we see Pride rather than this kiddy movie he wanted to see.

Flash forward to that Friday. He picks me and everyone else up. We get to the movie theater and and stand around for five minutes in the cold waiting for him to walk and go get tickets. "This is ridiculous," I think, and walk up towards the counter. Boy H buys tickets for my friend H, then it's Can O Cheese Whiz's turn. He buys one ticket. So then I get mine, ever grateful that I brought my wallet. Burgers for dinner. Once again... I paid for myself. When we walk into the theater who happens to be there but my kid sister and my best friend. Perfect. We sat directly below them.

The movie ended. Thus proceeded the awkward drive home. I had this terrible looming image in my head of him attempting to kiss me at my front door with my mom and sisters peering through the window as I shove him off me. I was quickly awakened from this nightmare. We were nearing my street. He stops in front of my house. "Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh..." "Well I had fun tonight," he says. "Me too? See you Monday." I hop out of the car. My mind is reeling as I walk up to the door. Wait... This is it? You didn't walk me to my door and you didn't even put the car in park?

Perhaps even more than the date, I dreaded the next Monday when we had class. "Hey Miss. V." "Hey." (I attempt to become thoroughly interested in my notes, but I'm thwarted by his persistence in talking to me.) "I'm really sorry about Friday." "Oh, it's okay. It's really not a big deal," I reply. "I'd like to make it up to you, would you like to-". No way. No way. Let's recap the "date" shall we? I paid for my movie and I paid for my burger. I do believe the correct term is a glorified hang out. So no, you will not "make it up to me". You had your chance, bucko. But of course I didn't say those things, instead I replied in a very quiet, awkward tone. "Oh no, don't worry about it." And then my rotund English teacher waddled to the front of the room and began lecture.

Much love and a red face,
The Virgin

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