Wednesday, February 20, 2008

I'm Just Putting Lotion on My Legs

I have three stories for you. None of them can match Wicked’s amazing adventures, and I’m a little jealous. You haven’t really lived until you’ve had a crazy man fall in love with you after one meal.

One of my worst dates was actually my first date ever. My parents were very strict, black-and-white rules kind of people, and they said I absolutely was not allowed to go on a date of any kind until I was 16 years old. So I didn’t. Even though I met Kris when I was 15, and he became my boyfriend then, and we were boyfriend and girlfriend for several months before I turned 16, I didn’t actually go on a date with him until after my 16th birthday. We decided to just go out to dinner in San Jose, which was a big deal because this meant he would have to take me IN HIS CAR on the HIGHWAY for at least 15 minutes. My mother hyperventilated about this, but like I said – black-and-white rules. They said 16, I was 16, and therefore they had to let me go. Anyway, I was seriously distracted for the bulk of the date, because I kept thinking “Oh my god. I’m on a date. What do I do? How is this different from just eating lunch together in the cafeteria? Am I doing it right? He’s 17, he’s been on dates before. He probably thinks I’m doing this wrong. Oh my god. I’m actually on a date. Oh my god.” When we were shown to our table, I didn’t know where to sit, so I sat next to Kris instead of facing him, and then got all embarrassed, sure that I should’ve sat ACROSS from him, and oh my god everyone is looking at how I sat down and they all can tell I don’t know what I’m doing and maybe I should move, should I get up and move? I knocked over various decanters full of liquid, including, I believe, some olive oil. I spilled spaghetti all over my outfit, because I hadn’t yet learned about appropriate First Date food. I could barely speak. It was a pretty miserable experience.

I had another interesting date experience much later in life. See, there was this guy whose parents I knew pretty well. I ended up working on a play with them just a few months after I had been dumped by my boyfriend. They discovered that I was their son’s age, and obviously single, so the teasing began. I’d never met this guy, but his parents kept telling me that we were destined to be, that I was going to marry him, and that really we should get around to arranging to meet so we could get on with all the marrying, etc. So this was all in good fun, and then came the weekend trip when I actually was going to be introduced to the guy. We did meet – under the watchful stare of his entire family. We were coincidentally sat next to one another at dinner. We were coincidentally sat next to one another at a play we attended later that evening. Our every conversation was monitored by folks who were trying very hard to act like they weren’t remotely interested. I felt like I was in a play. This wasn’t a bad date experience – just unique. It was like a blind date with the entire family along. Of course, 3 years later almost to the day, we did actually get married. So, you know, it ended well.

This last date experience is by far my weirdest, and I almost feel guilty writing this up because the guy was trying his best. But, here goes: so during my junior year of college I dated a few different people. In the springtime of that year, I got word through my former R.A. that one of her friends had noticed me in Latin class, of all places, and was really interested in me. Later that day, one of my sorority sisters said the same thing. We did the whole middle school round robin thing – do you like him? Check yes or no. And eventually it got back to him that I would be willing to try a blind date. Eh, he was cute enough, and he was pretty smart. I was open-minded. So, through the R.A. (whose name was Nicky), we arranged a double date at Pizza Hut. John, Nicky, and Nicky's boyfriend Sam would all pick me up together, and we'd have dinner.

They pulled up in a black SUV right on time, and I climbed in, pretty nervous but game. John was a sweetheart, a gentle giant who helped me in and out of the car and spoke to me very respectfully. My heart was getting a little melty - I like the nice guys. Then we get to Pizza Hut, and John began an evening of berating the waitstaff. He would look at me and ask, all peaches and cream, what kind of pizza I wanted, and then bark at the poor waitress to get it. I felt very uncomfortable about all this, but Nicky and her boyfriend helped smooth things over. To add to my discomfort, I got a huge piece of red pepper flake stuck in between my two front teeth, and repeated trips to the bathroom could not dislodge it. It wasn't too bad, I guess - I didn't really feel like smiling, what with all the yelling.

After dinner, we went back to campus, and John invited me to his frat house (Fiji, for the Wonder Women) where they were having a party. I went - what the hell, right? So we sat in his friend's room for a while (John didn't have a room there, he lived off campus.) John barely spoke, to me or anyone else. Everyone else was drinking, but John just had a Kool Aid, saying he didn't drink. This would have been great, if he hadn't continued to blurt out the story of his alcoholic father who left him and his mom when he was a kid. Um. That is sad, but perhaps not First Date material?

Then, at the stroke of 11pm, John got up and asked me to follow him outside. At the base of the steps, he leaned in close to me, pushed a piece of hair out of my eye, and then explained that he does not stay out later than 11pm and would be going home now, but he would call me later. Then he turned on his heel and left. He didn't even walk me home. This was a Saturday, by the way. Apparently the 11 pm curfew does not relax even for weekend college parties.

I thought that was it, but a few minutes later when I was back in my dorm, he called me. Odd, since I presumed he'd left to stick to his strict bedtime. I said "Hi, John. Um, how are you?" And he said, "I'm great. I'm just putting some lotion on my legs." Oh. Uh, cool.

And unfortunately, that is my worst date story. I was sharing this info with Darlin' last night, and asked him for his bad date stories. He didn't have anything good, either. Clearly, we did not date enough random people before we got married. We're going to have to start making things up if we want anything remotely interesting to tell our kids.


Wicked M said...

Be HAPPY that you do not have stories like mine. Feeling like you are on a date with an axe murderer is not an experience that I think anyone should have.

Okay, here is the thing that I cannot get past on this one...he was a FIJI??? And he had an 11p curfew??? WTF? How did he even get into that fraternity with that kind of behavior? How do you think he explained that as he was being hazed? "Sorry guys, I can't scrub the stairs with a toothbrush right now because I have to get home. I have an 11p curfew!"

super jane said...

g-love, you absolutely HAVE to tell me who this boy was. please, please email me! i'm beyond dying to know!

the whole lotion thing is hilarious! i'm laughing out loud right now thinking about the possible expression you had on your face when he said that.

MSO Rin said...

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Sorry, I was putting lotion on my legs while I read your post and my fingers are still slippery on the keys. How did he ever punch the right numbers on his phone, let alone HOLD it?