The Charmer and the Dating Game, Part 2

1/15/2016 The Charmer 6 Comments


Can we take a second to appreciate the fact that the blue guy on the left is CHRIS EVANS?

In hindsight, I guess I should have KNOWN that my dating life at BYU was destined to be wild. After all, what else could be expected from the girl who won "The Dating Game" 2 days after arriving on campus? 

If you haven't read part 1 of this post, make sure you catch it. And, if you have read it, you'll recall that I managed to win the Dating Game my first week at BYU. In true Charmer style, classes hadn't even started yet and I already had a date. Bam.

A week later, the big day arrived. Naturally, I was excited for my first BYU date, but I was also a little nervous. I'd never been on a blind date before (which is essentially what this was). And to make matters even more anxiety-producing, the Bachelor was cute! Cue the freshman girl jitters. I probably spent an eternity getting ready for that date. I still remember exactly what I wore: my favorite yellow shirt from Charlotte Russe and a star necklace. Get it, girl. 

I can't really remember the details of how I got picked up for the date. (I'm losing my memory in my old age.) I know there was a communal van taking the six of us--me and my date, the Bachelorette and her date, and two random people from BYUSA. Like I mentioned, the date was set up by some organization through BYUSA and so they also sent a couple representatives along to pay for everything and act as chaperones. I mean, it wasn't like this situation was awkward enough already, right? I'm fairly certain my date picked me up at the entrance to David John Hall (can I get a *woot woot* for Helaman Halls) but the four of us may just have met up outside the Cannon Center. 

Regardless of how we got there, we ended up at Costa Vida for dinner and bowling. After we got our burritos, the four of us were sitting together and trying to make small talk when the BYUSA reps came over. They explained that they wanted to film us on our date so they could show it the next time they held a Dating Game. They also told us they wanted to interview us each individually, so they asked us to come up with random facts about ourselves that we could share. Then they left us again so that we could continue to pretend that this was a normal date.

"Hmm, well, I'm really good at baseball?" my date said. "I don't know if that's exactly the kind of 'random' that they're looking for. What are you going to say, Charmer?"

I thought about it. "Well...I've always wanted to be a movie star. I still secretly hope it will happen. I guess that's pretty random."

"No, guys, I have the perfect thing!" The Bachelorette spoke up. "It is seriously the most random thing about me. I mean, it might be kind of weird to share...but I think that's what they want, right?"

Her date grinned at her. "Okay, what is it?"

Before I tell you what she said, know that nothing quite prepared me for her response. I figured she was going to say something like, "I have a pet snake" or "I won a hotdog eating contest." Those would have been fairly normal random answers, right?

Instead, she grinned at us before announcing,"I have a third nipple!" 

My date coughed on his Sprite. I tried not to burst out in shocked laughter. Her date, to his credit, handled the surprise pretty well. His eyes widened only slightly before he composed himself and said, "Oh...umm...wow, yeah, that's pretty random."

"I know, right? Like I said, kind of weird," she said, laughing nonchalantly. As if it wasn't a big deal to share intimate details of your chest with three total strangers.



In the end, we never did get interviewed. (I think our BYUSA reps forgot that we were supposed to be the ones on a date. They were pretty into each other.) We ate, we bowled, and then we went to the Varsity Theater to watch the movie "Prince Caspian." After that, we got dropped off at our dorms and I wondered if I would ever see my date again (nope). Beyond that, most of the details from the date have faded from my memory. I couldn't tell you if I bowled well that night or not. I hardly remember anything about the Bachelor except that he was from Ohio and he liked sports. 
But I don't think I will ever, ever forget that girl telling three strangers about her third nipple.

Got a first date story that one-ups mine? Send it in! We'd love to feature it here on the blog! xoxo.the.charmer[at]gmail[dot]com

6 comments:

Post a Comment

The Charmer and the Dating Game, Part 1

1/12/2016 The Charmer 2 Comments

Reading the submission from our last featured guest poster made me reminisce about MY first date at BYU! The story was too good not to share. Enjoy!
xoxo,
the charmer

 I was thrilled to go to college. I practically counted down the days of my senior year, looking forward to everything about BYU. Freedom, all-you-can-eat Cannon Center food, dances, football games, and most importantly....BOYS.

To say I was excited to date at BYU would be a gross understatement. I'm pretty sure the prospect of dating countless handsome and spiritual young men was the primary motivator that drew me to BYU and not to some other university. I had visions of getting hit on in the line at the CougarEat and kissing a rugged man at the top of Y Mountain. I imagined late night "study sessions" in the library and falling in love to the sound of the Young Ambassadors. I think it's safe to say that the sparse options in my hometown had left me a little bit boy-crazy.

In fact, I was so excited to date and keep track of all my dates that I prepared an "ABC Dating Journal" to document my adventures. I made the goal to date a boy whose name started with each letter of the alphabet. I mean, where else would I run into Gideons and Uriahs and Helamans? Probably only at the Lord's University, right?

My first couple days at BYU were a flurry of boxes, anxiety, and teary-eyed parents hugging me before handing me off to my freshman orientation counselor. The orientation tour is one fuzzy memory of free Creamery ice cream, lots of glass buildings, two orientation counselors getting engaged, and my now-best-friend The Roommate popping excitedly into my face and introducing herself. But most importantly, I remember walking around campus wide-eyed at the endless array of attractive, clean-cut young men. This place was heaven! Thus, you can imagine my excitement when we found ourselves headed to the freshman orientation party at the end of the week. Our first party as college students! With so many attractive boys to talk to! Omg. 

The party was set up in the WSC and had everything a typical BYU party is known for: a capella performances, watery lemonade, hundreds of crunchy sugar cookies, and a dance party featuring the latest in hip (yet clean) music. Oh, and there was one other thing: The Dating Game.

My small group of new-found friends and I wandered into the auditorium just in time to catch a group of boys competing onstage for the affection of a blonde bachelorette. She was sitting off to the side of the stage and was separated by a curtain so that none of the contestants could actually see her. The game was simple: each contestant filled out a brightly-colored questionnaire asking things like, "Do you prefer to STUDY HARD or PARTY HARDER?" "Are you more likely to watch a CHICK FLICK or an ACTION FILM?" The bachelorette would give her answer and then every contestant with the opposite answer had to leave the stage.

We watched for a few minutes before someone wearing a BYUSA t-shirt approached us. "The girls are next. You guys should do it!" she said cheerily, handing us each a copy of the questionnaire.

My friends shook their heads, laughing. "No way!"

"Guys, we should! Come on, why not?" I urged. "It's our first weekend as college students. We need to live a little!"

 Apparently my pep talk was the encouragement they needed, as they laughingly agreed and we all filled out our questionnaires.

A few minutes later, we found ourselves standing on the stage surrounded by about 80 other giggly freshman girls. I huddled to the side with my three friends, soaking in the excitement and randomness of the whole situation. I was at BYU! I was playing the dating game! I was going to be 18 in 4 days! LIFE WAS AWESOME! We cheered every time the hidden Bachelor announced his answers and half the girls onstage had to leave. One of my new-found friends booed when she found that her answer to question 3 forced her to leave the now dwindling contestant pool.

Around question 5, I found myself standing onstage without any of my wingwomen. All three of them had been eliminated and were now sitting in the audience, wildly cheering me on. I grinned nervously at them as question 6 kicked off another 10 contestants and I moved closer to the front of the stage. I think it was at this point when I started wondering What if I ACTUALLY win this thing? 

 By the time question 7 rolled around, I was committed. My competitive side kicked in. I was going to win The Dating Game. Those other girls had better watch out.


10 questions. 10 questions that I had answered correctly. All of my answers matched those of the mysterious Bachelor and I found myself standing at the front of the stage with 5 other girls who were equally lucky. The crowd went wild when the host announced us as the final 6 contestants. My own 4-person cheering squad was going nuts yelling "CHARMER! CHARMER! CHARMER!"

At this point, the competition got a little more intense. The Bachelor would ask a question and each of us had to respond. After listening to our responses, he would eliminate one contestant. My little freshman heart was pounding wildly every time I took the microphone. Luckily for me, he liked my rendition of "All I Ask of You" (when he asked us to sing him a love song) and apparently it was acceptable that my favorite flowers were daisies.

 Finally, the competition was down to three of us. We were each given 10 seconds to make a pitch about WHY we should be the chosen one. For the life of me, I can't remember a word of what I said. All I remember is giving the microphone back to the host and having people shout "PICK HER! PICK HER! PICK HER!"

And, whether it was peer pressure or the fact that I have a beautiful sultry voice (haha...not), when the host asked the Bachelor to make a decision, he announced "I choose CONTESTANT 3!"

Oh wait, what?!?! That was ME!

Winning was kind of like this. Except I didn't get a rose and I wasn't wearing booty shorts.

The crowd went wild, friends and strangers alike. I followed the host over to the other side of the curtain, where the Bachelor and I awkwardly embraced. The host pulled us aside to get our phone numbers and let us know that BYUSA would be setting up a date for us the following Friday. It would be a double date with the blonde Bachelorette we'd seen earlier.

My friends excitedly swarmed me as I walked down the steps. There were cries of, "I can't believe it!" and "Girl, he is CUTE!" and "Your first date at BYU!" all shouted simultaneously into my still-astonished face.

"Well, I guess I'm going to get my first alphabet letter," I replied, grinning.

Curious to find out what went down on the date? Check out PART 2!



2 comments:

Post a Comment

My First Date at BYU: A Guest Post

1/10/2016 The Charmer 0 Comments

Okay, I seriously think my favorite part of this blog is reading the stories that YOU send in! Here's another guest post (with fabulous pictures included) for your reading pleasure.

How did my first date at BYU date go?

On a scale of 1-10, it won an astonishing 4.

Timeline
7:05--Casanova shows up at the apartment and stands awkwardly by the door. For a second, I think he's forgotten my name.

7:05:01--We're out the door.

7:07--After a really stimulating observation about how "[my] apartment is pretty loud--Are you guys the party apartment?", Casanova proceeds to tell me he has no plan for the date. I was a little miffed by this. Not because I particularly expect the guy to do everything, but because he had called me a week before and told me he would surprise me. He hadn't told me where we were going, or if we were going with other people, or anything. When he first called, it sounded pretty impromptu, so I didn't worry. But then there was a week of in between time he totally could have come up with something. Instead he asked me if I was up for anything. I was, so I said yes.

7:08-7:30--We walked to campus. The scenic route. I wasn't bothered by walking. The conversation was mostly Casanova-centric though. I chalked it up to nervous babbling, so I wasn't too upset he only asked a few token questions in between breaths.

7:30-8:00ish--BYU's Got Talent. This was a good move, howbeit unintentional. I watch American Idol, America's Got Talent, Britain's Got Talent, The X Factor...not that he knew that, but I was still excited. We showed up about halfway through the performance and took a seat in the back.  I now understand why people say theater dates are so awkward for a first date. You basically have to semi-shout an attempt at intelligent conversation. However, it usually ends up being a running ommentary that neither person wants to continue, but because the conversation hasn't closed, you feel awkward just leaving it alone. For the first part, I tried talking, but he was slouched down in his seat so far that I had to lean all the way over him to get near his ear. I'm 98% pretty sure he fell asleep multiple times.

8:00ish-9:00ish--Proceed to basement of the Wilkinson Center. Casanova asks me what I want to do. Never having been down there before and also a little freaked to have been put on the spot, I told him I didn't care. I really didn't...much. I actually really just wanted to go home by that point. No luck. He chooses pool, telling me he's an okay player before
asking if I'm any good. (It kind of annoys me, because he asked questions on rare occasions, but they always seemed like something he remembered he needed to do, not like he actually cared at all what I was saying.) I got in a few lucky shots (because I'm horrible), so I thanked God for making me look like a decent player. He then went on to cream me. I am a very competitive person, and I didn't like this at all. I could have handled it if he played it off sheepishly or even teased me and challenged me to win, but he wasn't interactive at all. As I continued losing, he got more confident, shooting behind his back and whatnot (but with no acknowledgement of the fact he was showing off, like I was supposed to pretend this was how he played all the time). I got less confident, even missing the cue ball a few times, to which he just looked at me then acted like he hadn't seen anything. He talked, but it was all fluffy nothing. Okay, that's a lie. It was real stuff he was talking about, but I didn't really care anymore. It was like a broken record playing an album of songs like: I'm Awesome, My Classes Are The Worst Thing Ever, Where I'm Going On My Mission, and These Are The Things I Like. 

9:00ish-10:00ish--Since I hadn't known what we were going to be doing on said date, I ate just enough to tide me over until I thought the date would be over, just in case he wanted to do a let's-eat-out date. By 9:30, though, I was pretty hungry, so when he said "Hey, you think it's too cold for ice cream?" I was like, "It's never too late for ice cream!!" For some reason, in my head I pictured us entering the Creamery, getting the ice cream, and continuing on our longest-possible-route back to my apartment. Not so. I got to sit in a booth for a half an hour and listen to Casanova talk about...you guessed it...himself. Again.


10:00ish-10:30ish--Walking back. I figured out that if I just said "Yeah" "Sure" and "I bet" every once and a while, I could ignore what he was saying and concentrate on all the homework I needed to do once I got home. When we finally got there, I told him thanks and opened the door. My roommates were asleep, so the whole apartment was dark. Without turning on the light, I give him a polite "Thank you" and step inside. Instead of leaving, he takes a couple steps inside himself and attempts to continue conversation. I didn't respond, partly because I was hoping he would leave and partly because I was shocked he would think I would be okay with it. Finally, blessedly, he left.

Anyway, it's over with. I don't plan on avoiding Casanova or anything, but, because of a collaborative effort from both himself and me, he is soooo far in the friend zone he needs binoculars to see any kind of romantic interest. I think, in a way, this was a good thing. I was able to determine nothing was going to happen so early in the date, I wasn't nervous at all. Now, if/when I get asked out by someone who I want to impress, I don't have to deal with first-date-at-BYU jitters.

See that? That's me, being positive. I'm so proud of myself.......:/

0 comments:

Post a Comment

Why I Don't Recommend Haunted Forests or Blind Dates: A Guest Post

1/05/2016 The Charmer 2 Comments

Remember that one time I asked for guest posts? Well, the offer still stands, y'all! Anyway, this gem was submitted less than a day after I posted my request. I laughed, I cried, and then I utterly failed at sharing it with you guys. My apologies, and enjoy!
xoxo, the charmer
Background: I don't know the whole story here, but it sounds like this was a blind date set up by the writer's aunt. AKA almost the worst kind of blind date, second only to ones set up by grandmothers.
The struggle began before the date even started. His awkward texts did nothing to endear me to him, and I accidentally (sometimes “accidentally”) forgot to respond for long stretches of time between them. At one point I didn’t even bother to reply, unwilling to carry the conversation. Two days later, I was sitting in the car on the way to FHE when he texted. “Your aunt says you don’t think I have any guts.”
I’d never said that, and I told him as much. He proceeded to try and arrange a date for later in the week, and despite the fact that I kept attempting to get him to just call me, he managed to do the whole thing over text. At this point, yes, I didn’t think he had any guts.
He showed up that Friday night at 7, and almost right after we left, announced that we were going to a haunted forest. Not a great idea.
First of all, I was wearing open-toed shoes (which turned out to not be the biggest problem that night). Second of all, I don’t like haunted things. If I was to do something haunted, I’d want it to be with someone I wanted to be close to. Not someone that I barely even wanted to go on a date with. And then there was the fact that it was twenty minutes away, a drive that feels like eternity when things aren’t clicking.
And they didn’t click. In fact, by the time we’d gotten to the freeway, we’d apparently exhausted all conversation topics, and I’d fallen silent, okay with not saying anything in particular. He apparently wasn’t, as he tapped his hands against the steering wheel and said, “I just don’t have anything else to say.”
There’s a part of me that wishes I’d suggested we just go home at that point. That I’d said, “Look, it doesn’t seem like we’re going to work out. Why don’t we head back, get some froyo, and call it good?” It would’ve saved a lot of hassle.
We pressed on, the conversation stunted and uncomfortable. I don’t remember if the radio was on. I hope for my sake that it was.
Upon arrival, and prior to getting tickets, he jokingly asked who was paying. It wouldn’t be the first time he joked about that before the tickets were actually purchased. At twenty dollars a person. And then he wanted to also get a fast pass, when the line was maybe ten groups long and clearly moving steadily.
He left me standing outside the entrance while he used the bathroom, and I took the opportunity to send a text to a friend, wanting someone to commiserate with me. I’d continue to text throughout the night (at moments when it wouldn’t be inappropriate to do so).
The line was blissfully short, but as we approached the be-vampired ticket taker, the conversation got awkward again. I just tried to ignore the uncomfortableness and walked into the corn, attempting to forget the exchange. To my relief, it was simply a path through the corn, not a maze we’d have to puzzle our way through. I steeled my emotions, looking beyond the horror at the potential normalcy.
Each actor approached me first, thinking to frighten what might’ve looked like a weak and potentially terrified female. I obviously disappointed them, as not a single scream was emitted that night. By the time they realized I was a lost cause, it was too late to scare my date. And so we pressed on, impervious to the terrors that would confront us—except, of course, for the awkwardness that loomed between us.
Towards the end of the trail, my date began questioning the shadowy figures, trying to find a friend he knew was working, adding to the lack of enthusiasm I had for the whole endeavor. Not to mention that at this point, I’d heard close to five chainsaws approach me, none of which were actually worrisome. It was near the exit that the friend was located, but as we stepped out from the “creepy carnival” portion, we realized that it’d only been twenty minutes.
I still don’t quite remember what our plans were after that point. Maybe we were going to go get something to eat, or just take me back home. Regardless, those would all dissipate as he tried to open my door for me. He stuck the key in the lock, and unable to turn it, he pulled it out to find that it’d bent. It broke in his hands as he attempted to straighten it. The panic was almost immediate, and understandably so.
As I gave him a chance to solve the problem, I quickly realized he wasn’t getting anywhere, just worrying that he’d ruined everything, not really thinking through possible ways to fix things. “Do you want me to call my uncle?” I suggested, hoping that that would at least give my date somewhere to start coming up with a solution. I did so, and we waited for him to arrive. I leaned against the car, my arms and legs crossed—not due to the weather, but rather to my awkwardness. I stayed engaged with the conversation, wanting him to understand that this kind of thing was an accident, and I understood that.
We climbed in the back seat when my uncle showed up, somehow deciding to go somewhere to get a key copied. The drive was only slightly less uncomfortable as I chatted with my uncle. But, as we drove, my date’s discomfort was noticeable. “I just wish—” he began before shaking his head.
“What?” I asked.
“I just wish this hadn’t happened. Now you won’t want to go out with me again.”
Well. Yes.
“This could happen to anyone,” I hedged, not wanting to say it was him. But it was also definitely him. “It’s not like you were being a jerk.” But we don’t work together. So please don’t ask me out again.
The key eventually copied, we soon discovered that it wouldn’t fit in the lock for whatever reason. And so we headed to his family’s house to get a different car for him to take me home. Passing an Olive Garden, he remarked that we should go get him something to eat. “I’ll just get a glass of water,” I said.
“Why?”
“Well, for one, I’m not feeling great,” (yay for motion sickness) “and for another, I already ate.”
He insisted that after 7 was a perfectly normal time to eat dinner. “Yeah,” I said, “but you didn’t mention anything about getting something to eat. If I’m asked on a date, and they don’t say anything about food, I’m going to eat something before I go.”
It’s a clear indicator of how well the date isn’t going when you have better conversation with his stepdad than you do with your date. As if I needed more of a sign, it got even worse when I mentioned I didn’t know how to drive stick to my date. “Here, I’ll teach you,” he insisted. “I’m not going to shift until you do it.”
“What!? No, I’m not doing that!”
“C’mon, it’ll be fine!”
“No!”
We headed down the freeway, and he seemed more talkative than he had been before as he began complain about “judgmental Utah girls.” “That’s what I like about you: you aren’t judgy.” Clearly I’d passed the “can be calm in difficult circumstances test” and now he believed we were on track for date #2. “Actually,” I said, “three of my roommates are from Utah, and they’re not like what you think they are.”
Somehow, by the end of the date, he’d gone from having nothing to say to me to wanting to go out me on another date. On the other hand, I’d gone from not wanting to go out with him to definitely not wanting to go out with him. 
Loved it! Thanks for sharing with us. Were you reading this and thinking, "Oh  my gosh, I have a story JUST LIKE THIS"? We want to hear it! Check out my original post and send them in!

2 comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)