The Dating Game always seems to be a cliche that you hear about, but
never truly experience. Until you do. Then you realize that all of these
"he says, she says" stories can in fact, be fact. At least to some
varying degree. It's a little surprising when this happens.
You were so surprised to hear his voice on the other end of the phone
after you thought you'd only see him at one or two group reunions
commemorating your month-long study trip you happened to both go on. You
had thought he was the only cute one the whole time, but never thought
anything would happen when you would hit the homeland. Especially since
he had chosen to flirt with some of the "unavailables" the whole time,
and you thought that was really weird. He was out of your mind. But then
you hear his words come through the other line that say:
"I should have asked you out when I came to pick up my luggage at your house a week ago."
You were surprised, but you said yes.
He picks you up, and you reminisce over Italian pizza. He is much
funnier in this setting, and seems more at ease than you had noticed
before. He makes comments alluding to "not making a move before" and you
are still surprised that he called you five days earlier in the first
place. You wanted to know what his intentions were, because you never
can assume the obvious.
He walks you to the door, saying on the way, "This didn't feel like a first date at all" and you know why.
You are even more surprised that when you go in for a hug, he goes in
for a kiss. Which then results in him kissing your lower left cheek. You
thought in your 5 years of dating you had done pretty well to avoid
that awkward situation, but then realize it has to happen at least once
to everyone. This had just been your time.
You walk inside even more surprised at how the past week has turned out-- never imagining this.
You stare blankly at the floor for what felt like 79 seconds wondering if that had just really happened. Then you realize you're going to have to tell your roommates how the date went, ending
with, "He kissed me. Well, he first missed my lips, but then I let him
do a redo. It takes a lot of guts to kiss a girl."
You're surprised that during the second date, he holds your hand in
public. He's charming and you roast mini marshmallows with toothpicks
and a tea light. You still have no idea what
his intentions are because he lacks the ability to let any form of feelings slip from his lips. The only form of anything coming from his lips that night didn't miss this time.
You're again surprised that he doesn't contact you for a whole week.
Then, when you see him at the reunion like you always thought you would,
it was awkward. So you decided to be a big girl and go say hi to him,
because he wouldn't say hi to you. There was still a white elephant in
the room that only you two were aware of, but you feel like you played
it out pretty well.
You thought that because you gave the courtesy of honesty to other guys
in the past, Karma would makes its rounds to you. But Karma doesn't, so
you decide to drop it. It's not worth stressing over someone who doesn't
make an effort after stealing a couple of kisses. Even though it's
annoying and goes against your code.
Though time has passed, you're surprised that you still wonder of his
previous intentions. You wonder if it was something you did or said, or
didn't do or didn't say. You wonder if his intentions were to fulfill pressure
from the outside expectations. You're then surprised that you've become
one of those girls who has insecurities about a boy who stopped
talking to you. That makes you disgusted with yourself, because you are
exceptionally good at not caring. So then you go back to not caring.
You weren't surprised to find out that the reoccurring theme in your life is indeed becoming more and more of a fact.
Showing posts with label bad dating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bad dating. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
A Truth Universally Acknowledged
This is a story about a truth universally acknowledged. No, not that truth… this one:
A single man in possession of [honesty, resilience, and tact will find] a wife.
(Or at least in Utah)
It sounds simple enough, right? What makes such a simple statement difficult for a person to understand? When I hear a man utter the statement “I just don’t understand girls” my mind immediately wonders what kind of situations the speaker has been put in… better yet, which ones he’s put himself in. It is amazing to me that even after however many years of males and females coexisting , men constantly try to appear victimized. Why is this? Is it because of the big, bad woman? Is our luscious femininity to blame? Do we automatically make the opposite species fawn over us without even trying? Is it my fault you can’t figure out the proper way to treat a girl? My fault for slipping through your fingers? Should I be held responsible when you label me ‘the one who got away’?
It was a Friday night. It was the day after Thanksgiving, and I had spent my holiday with relatives, out of state. I was on an air mattress, pondering the movie I had just seen. It was a thought-provoking movie, and I always seem to dwell on those a little bit more than the average blockbuster. I thought it might be interesting to send a text to one of my friends—one who I knew would appreciate the conversation. We had been chatting back and forth via text message for an hour or so when I drifted softly into slumber land. I woke the next day to his final text message, one telling me to let him know when I got back into town because he had a question for me. Thinking it was weird that he wouldn’t just ask me there, I forgot about it only minutes later.
When I returned home, I got back in the swing of things. I started school again, which was rough on my immune system. I had developed a nasty cold the following week, figuring it was a result of my multitudinous holiday travels.
As Monday turned to Tuesday and so forth, I braved the freeway that Friday night. I decided that I would nurse my sick, aching body back to health at my parent’s house. As I came into Salt Lake, my cell phone rang. It was the boy I’d texted Friday night. Seeing the name on the screen was rather peculiar, considering we’d never had an actual phone conversation before, but I picked it up, anyway.
“Hello?” My voice was weak and scratchy.
“Hi…” he said.
“Hey, how are you?” I asked.
“I’m well.” It was silent for a few moments. I wondered if he had ever had spoken on the phone before. He seemed not to grasp the concept of engaging in conversation, or at least participating in one that he started.
“Good!” I exclaimed, “Can I help you with something?”
“Yeah. Are you in town tonight?”
“I’m not, actually. I’m pretty unwell, so I’m headed back to my parents’ house as we speak.”
“ARE YOU DRIVING RIGHT NOW?” he inquired.
“Yes…?”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to call you during a time that you were driving. I will call back on Monday when you get home. I still need to ask you that question that I told you I was going to ask when I spoke with you last week.”
Light bulb.
“Alright, sounds good. Talk to you then.”
Click.
The weekend passed without a hitch. Miraculously, my health returned. Monday night came, and as I was catching up on some homework, my cell phone began its familiar buzz. Seeing his name, I laughed, remembering the peculiar conversation we’d had a few days before, and then, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” Obviously, my silent judgment taught him nothing about phone call expectations.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Well, I need to ask you that thing I have been trying to ask you,” he swallowed, audibly, “ and I’ve been wondering for a long time why I've never hung out with you before. I’ve tried to kick the thought, but it hasn’t been working, and…” (Probably pay close attention to this part) “I’m not saying that it’s the spirit pushing me to do this, but, Do you think that maybe sometime this week, we could go out?”
With my mouth agape, I tried to look at things from his point of view, and had a pre-answer conversation in my mind.
Tell him that it wasn’t the spirit.
No, don’t.
But… it wasn’t…
Doesn’t matter. Say yes to the poor soul.
“Well, what did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could go see that movie, maybe. Would you want to do that?”
“Sure! I’d love to.”
The phone call continued another ten minutes. He put me on speaker phone, assuring me that no one was in the room to hear me speaking, though the thought of our conversation being so intimate and private had no place in my mind at all. I heard him flip calendar pages, trying to find a place for me in his week, and in all of that silence, couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t made a plan in the first place. Wasn’t that what you did when you asked someone out? Weren’t you supposed to say, “Hey. Movies. Friday night. 7:30. Come.” And then, if the person couldn’t, you just hung up and tried someone else? All of these thoughts interrupted by…
“Would Thursday work? If not, I’m not offended. You don’t have to go with me.”
“Thursday works.”
“No, really, I understand if you’re up to your waist in school work. It is the last week of the semester. I don’t want to step on your toes.” Not really the right use of the phrase, but I let it slide. I was pretty piled up with homework, but decided I should say yes, anyway. I was never the type to turn down anyone.
“Thursday, it is.”
“Really, you don’t have to come.” At this point, I questioned whether or not he wanted to go out at all. “Also, if you want me to make you dinner, let me know. I could do that. I know you don’t cook. So, I could feed you before the movie starts, if you’re hungry.”
Such an awkward question… statement… which part of speech was that, even?
“How about you decide, and let me know.”
“Okay. Sounds good. See you then—Oh, wait! One more thing. The last thing I was going to ask you was whether or not you were feeling better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine? Kleenex? Gatorade?” While it was a very sweet gesture, I was, in fact, feeling much better, and was in no need of his services.
“No, I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore. Thanks, though. That’s very nice of you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Uh…
“Okay, well…”
“I can hear your coughing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Have a good night!” About an hour later, this Facebook update showed up on my screen. Word to the wise, when the Facebook status bar asks what you’re thinking, telling the entire truth is not required. In fact, I would discourage doing so.
Thursday came, and, even more so than on Monday, I was drowning in homework. I’d said no to dinner before, but was trying to avoid bailing on the date, completely.
Around 3:00, I was running around campus, trying to finish a sketching assignment, but with the dark cloud of three academic papers due by the end of the night looming above me, I knew I couldn’t finish everything I needed to, while still going out that night. My first instinct was to text message him, explaining how sorry I was for canceling on such short notice, but hit myself on the head for not sooner realizing that he deserved a phone call. So, I dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Good. Listen, I hate myself for doing this, but—“
“You can’t come. I knew that was it when the phone started ringing. I was afraid of this.” The disappointment in his tone was palpable. A lump formed in my throat, and I wanted to take it all back. This is precisely what I’d tried so hard to dodge.
“I know. I feel so dumb. I’m sorry. Seriously. I underestimated how much homework I would have by the end of the week, and there’s just no way I’m going to be able to finish on time. I’m so sorry. Really, I am.” There was silence on the line, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
Intentional silence. I deserved that.
“Okay. Well, anyway. I hope you have a good night, and I’m sure we’ll be able to do something again, sometime. Take care.”
“Alright. Bye.” Feeling like a world-class snob, I ventured home. I felt like the scum of the Earth. A few minutes passed, and as I walked, ashamed, I loaded Facebook. Not even five minutes after our phone call, he updated his status, asking if someone would take his extra movie ticket that he’d already paid for, which was strategically specified in the post. My jaw dropped in horror. I was first upset with myself for not assuming that he’d already purchased tickets, but my guilt turned to anger as I read what he’d written.
I wasn’t mad that he was looking for a replacement for me, but annoyed that he rubbed the ticket he might’ve had to eat in my face. Instead of bowing out like a gentleman, refusing to be offended, like he’d previously promised to do had I wanted to cancel in the first place, he handled the entire ordeal like a wounded puppy. I was livid that he was claiming innocence, trying to show me that he was the victim of it all, clearly forgetting that all this time, he’d refused to let me in on the plan. He couldn’t speak with, let alone think with confidence, I was unsure whether he wanted to go anywhere with me, and let’s not forget that he asked me out using The Spirit. Ah, the way to any girl’s heart… blaming one’s interest on someone else’s persuasion.
All of this to tell you what women want, a simple answer to the eternal question:
And don’t post things on Facebook about a girl you’re trying to win over… because she’ll run the other way faster than your browser can update.
“Yes…?”
“Oh, I am so sorry. Really, I am. I didn’t mean to call you during a time that you were driving. I will call back on Monday when you get home. I still need to ask you that question that I told you I was going to ask when I spoke with you last week.”
Light bulb.
“Alright, sounds good. Talk to you then.”
Click.
The weekend passed without a hitch. Miraculously, my health returned. Monday night came, and as I was catching up on some homework, my cell phone began its familiar buzz. Seeing his name, I laughed, remembering the peculiar conversation we’d had a few days before, and then, I answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi.” Obviously, my silent judgment taught him nothing about phone call expectations.
“Hey, what’s up?”
“Well, I need to ask you that thing I have been trying to ask you,” he swallowed, audibly, “ and I’ve been wondering for a long time why I've never hung out with you before. I’ve tried to kick the thought, but it hasn’t been working, and…” (Probably pay close attention to this part) “I’m not saying that it’s the spirit pushing me to do this, but, Do you think that maybe sometime this week, we could go out?”
With my mouth agape, I tried to look at things from his point of view, and had a pre-answer conversation in my mind.
Tell him that it wasn’t the spirit.
No, don’t.
But… it wasn’t…
Doesn’t matter. Say yes to the poor soul.
“Well, what did you have in mind?”
“I thought we could go see that movie, maybe. Would you want to do that?”
“Sure! I’d love to.”
The phone call continued another ten minutes. He put me on speaker phone, assuring me that no one was in the room to hear me speaking, though the thought of our conversation being so intimate and private had no place in my mind at all. I heard him flip calendar pages, trying to find a place for me in his week, and in all of that silence, couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t made a plan in the first place. Wasn’t that what you did when you asked someone out? Weren’t you supposed to say, “Hey. Movies. Friday night. 7:30. Come.” And then, if the person couldn’t, you just hung up and tried someone else? All of these thoughts interrupted by…
“Would Thursday work? If not, I’m not offended. You don’t have to go with me.”
“Thursday works.”
“No, really, I understand if you’re up to your waist in school work. It is the last week of the semester. I don’t want to step on your toes.” Not really the right use of the phrase, but I let it slide. I was pretty piled up with homework, but decided I should say yes, anyway. I was never the type to turn down anyone.
“Thursday, it is.”
“Really, you don’t have to come.” At this point, I questioned whether or not he wanted to go out at all. “Also, if you want me to make you dinner, let me know. I could do that. I know you don’t cook. So, I could feed you before the movie starts, if you’re hungry.”
Such an awkward question… statement… which part of speech was that, even?
“How about you decide, and let me know.”
“Okay. Sounds good. See you then—Oh, wait! One more thing. The last thing I was going to ask you was whether or not you were feeling better. Can I bring you anything? Medicine? Kleenex? Gatorade?” While it was a very sweet gesture, I was, in fact, feeling much better, and was in no need of his services.
“No, I’m okay. I’m not sick anymore. Thanks, though. That’s very nice of you.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Uh…
“Okay, well…”
“I can hear your coughing.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Have a good night!” About an hour later, this Facebook update showed up on my screen. Word to the wise, when the Facebook status bar asks what you’re thinking, telling the entire truth is not required. In fact, I would discourage doing so.
Thursday came, and, even more so than on Monday, I was drowning in homework. I’d said no to dinner before, but was trying to avoid bailing on the date, completely.
Around 3:00, I was running around campus, trying to finish a sketching assignment, but with the dark cloud of three academic papers due by the end of the night looming above me, I knew I couldn’t finish everything I needed to, while still going out that night. My first instinct was to text message him, explaining how sorry I was for canceling on such short notice, but hit myself on the head for not sooner realizing that he deserved a phone call. So, I dialed.
“Hello?”
“Hi. How are you?”
“Good.”
“Good. Listen, I hate myself for doing this, but—“
“You can’t come. I knew that was it when the phone started ringing. I was afraid of this.” The disappointment in his tone was palpable. A lump formed in my throat, and I wanted to take it all back. This is precisely what I’d tried so hard to dodge.
“I know. I feel so dumb. I’m sorry. Seriously. I underestimated how much homework I would have by the end of the week, and there’s just no way I’m going to be able to finish on time. I’m so sorry. Really, I am.” There was silence on the line, “Are you still there?”
“Yeah.”
Intentional silence. I deserved that.
“Okay. Well, anyway. I hope you have a good night, and I’m sure we’ll be able to do something again, sometime. Take care.”
“Alright. Bye.” Feeling like a world-class snob, I ventured home. I felt like the scum of the Earth. A few minutes passed, and as I walked, ashamed, I loaded Facebook. Not even five minutes after our phone call, he updated his status, asking if someone would take his extra movie ticket that he’d already paid for, which was strategically specified in the post. My jaw dropped in horror. I was first upset with myself for not assuming that he’d already purchased tickets, but my guilt turned to anger as I read what he’d written.
I wasn’t mad that he was looking for a replacement for me, but annoyed that he rubbed the ticket he might’ve had to eat in my face. Instead of bowing out like a gentleman, refusing to be offended, like he’d previously promised to do had I wanted to cancel in the first place, he handled the entire ordeal like a wounded puppy. I was livid that he was claiming innocence, trying to show me that he was the victim of it all, clearly forgetting that all this time, he’d refused to let me in on the plan. He couldn’t speak with, let alone think with confidence, I was unsure whether he wanted to go anywhere with me, and let’s not forget that he asked me out using The Spirit. Ah, the way to any girl’s heart… blaming one’s interest on someone else’s persuasion.
All of this to tell you what women want, a simple answer to the eternal question:
Know what you want, say what you mean.
And don’t post things on Facebook about a girl you’re trying to win over… because she’ll run the other way faster than your browser can update.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Things you should never...
hear on a first date.
But there is a chance you may hear some of these while living in Happy Valley.
1. I can feel your testimony when you smile.
2. I have anger management issues and I would punch holes in walls in my teens.
3. Waiter, could you split the check?
4. Now we're going to see the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
5. I went through a legit gothic stage. I'd use black sharpie to color in my nails.
6. I was AP on my mission.
7. You're way more funny than my ex-boyfriend.
8. I have a missionary.
9. When is the last time you bore your testimony?
10. I really want to get married.
But there is a chance you may hear some of these while living in Happy Valley.
1. I can feel your testimony when you smile.
2. I have anger management issues and I would punch holes in walls in my teens.
3. Waiter, could you split the check?
4. Now we're going to see the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
5. I went through a legit gothic stage. I'd use black sharpie to color in my nails.
6. I was AP on my mission.
7. You're way more funny than my ex-boyfriend.
8. I have a missionary.
9. When is the last time you bore your testimony?
10. I really want to get married.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
The Art of Stalking: Part I
Stalking has lost it's true art form because it has almost become too easy with social media. Where did all of the girls go who cut off that guy's lock of hair while he was sleeping in class? Where did all of the boys go who watched his crush during her track meet without anyone knowing? Now that is real, old time, high school stalking back in the day when they did it the right way. The good stuff that you see in old films, or your dad tells you he did when he was a young lad. Then there is the "college-age and over" old time stalking. Now that just gets weird if you ask me. I mean, look at this....
I just didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't really dating someone and that it was for his stalker ways....
Let's just talk about a few things for a minute.
First off... this whole thing is weird because we still had never talked to each other face to face until this interview.
Secondly, if a guy seriously has a preconceived plan to fake an interview because he doesn't have the guts to truly ask you out... then he may have just lost his man card. I know, I know... asking girls out is scary. But come on, guys. His "creative ways" were just taken too far into the creepy zone.
Thirdly, where in the right mind of the male population did someone tell him this was okay to do? I would've hoped his roommates could have given him some manly advice and said "Not cool, bro. Not cool" before he went ahead with the deed.
As I am walking out from work, I get a text from him (this guy never gives up.)
If you weren't dating anyone, would you go out with me?
I obviously didn't text back. So an hour later, I got this text:
That text was sent by my roommate. Haha my bad.
(Yeah right that was your roommate.)
Here's to "tiny mistakes", losing man cards, and stalking at it's finest.
They even had a book about it. This is from the 1950's.
Then it became a real magazine for men entitled "The Girl Watcher". With tips and advice on how to snatch up any girl you wanted.
I was shocked when I saw this. How could this be for real? That picture is of a man pulling a girls hair (a big "no no" in any circumstance) and then the other is of him throwing her over his shoulder like a sac of potatoes. I guess it was in the 50s... but still! I thought these men had class, but apparently they still had trouble dealing with their feelings.
Here's one of my most favorite segments from this particular article. (Please sense my sarcasm.)
I don't even know how to comment on this. It's just... a little for much for me to handle. The feminist in me is coming out. So insert your own comment here (or below if you really want me to read your comment): ___________________________________________________.
Okay... Moving on.
My story is a combination of new-age FB stalking, and a little bit of your good old time face-to-face stuff. You know, the kind above that really classifies one as a creepy stalker.
It starts out one Fall Semester when I was in a lab for one of my classes. This lab was huge and had way too many students in it, so I didn't know very many people. I had a Facebook friend request from a guy in my class at the end of the semester. I knew of him because of this class and our same majors, but had never talked to him in my life. I accepted because of this reason, and didn't think too much harm could come from it. Now looking back, I'm going to be a little more picky with who I let me by Facebook friend. Once I accepted he started liking my posts and pictures, and even commenting on a few things here and there. I thought it was a little strange because I seriously didn't know him at all, but didn't think too much of it besides that.
Nine months later... (yes, nine) I get a message on Facebook from this young man. I was very surprised by this because like I said before... I've never talked to this kid in my life. He asked if he could interview me for one of his classes. It was for extra credit. I accepted, just to be nice and to do a favor for a good ol' Facebook friend. I felt a little uncomfortable with this because he was a sort of awkward about it but he set up a time and a place, and we met.
We sat down and there was this super uncomfortable bubble around us. The worst part of it was that I was stuck in this bubble for the next while. I hoped it wouldn't be too long so I could skedaddle out of there ASAP. We started with some awkward small talk, and I could tell he felt a little antsy. He pulled out a typed up list of 20 questions to ask me. He seemed very prepared for this whole entire interview... a little too prepared that it seemed over bearing. After the questions were over he told me about a conference call over at our school with a company that I had interned with over the summer. I really wanted to go, so I did. Unfortunately he wanted to go too.
After the conference, I went and talked to the Professor. The guy had already left the room and I thought "phew, I don't have to talk to him". I walked out of the class, and guess who was standing outside waiting for me. Yup. Our good friend the interviewer. I thought I was off the hook, but obviously I thought wrong. He walked up to me and said,
"Hey, I need to talk to you."
"Okay...."
"But we need to go outside."
We proceeded to go outside and I am pretty sure I wanted to be anywhere else but with this guy. I felt super uncomfortable, especially the way he was going about doing all of this. I racked my brain wondering what he possibly had to talk to me about.
"So, I have a confession... (dun dun dun....) That interview was completely made up. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you in person."
THIS IS FOR REAL. I about died. As he elaborated on his confession I completely tuned him out because I was in shock! I had NO idea how I was supposed to respond to him and I was even more weirded out at the fact that he planned a FAKE interview just to talk to me. I was living one of those crazy stories you hear from your roommates, roommates, roommate. After a few minutes of his bantering, it was finally my turn to chime in.
There are only a few times in life where a girl is allowed to lie to a guy and tell him she is dating someone, when she really is not. This is one of those times.
I said, "Okay, this is really weird. I'm actually dating someone right now, so this puts me in an uncomfortable situation. I'm flattered and all, but I am not comfortable with this. I have to go."
So I went.
I got back to work to find this message from him on Facebook (and then I responded).
(Names have been blacked out for confidentiality)
I just didn't have the heart to tell him that I wasn't really dating someone and that it was for his stalker ways....
Let's just talk about a few things for a minute.
First off... this whole thing is weird because we still had never talked to each other face to face until this interview.
Secondly, if a guy seriously has a preconceived plan to fake an interview because he doesn't have the guts to truly ask you out... then he may have just lost his man card. I know, I know... asking girls out is scary. But come on, guys. His "creative ways" were just taken too far into the creepy zone.
Thirdly, where in the right mind of the male population did someone tell him this was okay to do? I would've hoped his roommates could have given him some manly advice and said "Not cool, bro. Not cool" before he went ahead with the deed.
As I am walking out from work, I get a text from him (this guy never gives up.)
If you weren't dating anyone, would you go out with me?
I obviously didn't text back. So an hour later, I got this text:
That text was sent by my roommate. Haha my bad.
(Yeah right that was your roommate.)
Here's to "tiny mistakes", losing man cards, and stalking at it's finest.
Friday, October 12, 2012
Sleeping Beauty
My sophomore year, like most Provo girls that experience the great missionary migration, I was down for any date I could get. When a coworker asked if I was interest in a blind date with her newly returned missionary she knew, I was down like a frown. She warned me that he was "fun-size" but a really good kid.
When he called later that week, conversation came easily and I started to really look forward to meeting him. It seemed great because he had actually PLANNED something. Called me AHEAD of time, and hadn't mentioned his mission ONCE! Winner!
No. Not a winner.
When I opened the door that Friday night, we were eye level. Not a big deal, but it's no fun when all future hopes of tip-toe kisses die before you even say hi.
He opens the door and we head out, and again conversation was easy! He even makes me laugh a couple of times which is not the easiest thing to do. We meet up with the friend that set us up and her date and sit down for dinner. After introductions, I get up to use the lady's room. As I turn the corner, I hear my date ask my coworker, "What's her name again?"
Yes. He forgot my name.
My pride was shattered. (I might have "accidentally" stepped on his toes when I came back.)
But the rest of dinner was nothing special. It was obvious to me that this was going to be a first/last date for us. We parted ways with the other couple for our activity. His roommates had claimed the apartment TV that night so he grabbed a projector and set up a little drive in movie for us near Vivian Park.
He brought a good movie which I had already seen. It wasn't long until I had nodded off.
Keep in mind that:
a) We had just met
b) He forgot my name not 2 hours before
c) We are not cuddling for holding hands
So when I woke up to his hot, spit covered lips on mine, TRUST me-- I was not a happy camper. I was so shocked, I just pulled away and said, "Excuse me, but I'm sleeping." (Really biting remarks never come when you need them.)
Anyway, the rest of the night was pretty awkward. He dropped me off without getting out of the car. We both said "sorry" instead of "goodbye". It was the last I saw of him, but at least I know I'm Sleeping Beauty!
When he called later that week, conversation came easily and I started to really look forward to meeting him. It seemed great because he had actually PLANNED something. Called me AHEAD of time, and hadn't mentioned his mission ONCE! Winner!
No. Not a winner.
When I opened the door that Friday night, we were eye level. Not a big deal, but it's no fun when all future hopes of tip-toe kisses die before you even say hi.
He opens the door and we head out, and again conversation was easy! He even makes me laugh a couple of times which is not the easiest thing to do. We meet up with the friend that set us up and her date and sit down for dinner. After introductions, I get up to use the lady's room. As I turn the corner, I hear my date ask my coworker, "What's her name again?"
Yes. He forgot my name.
My pride was shattered. (I might have "accidentally" stepped on his toes when I came back.)
But the rest of dinner was nothing special. It was obvious to me that this was going to be a first/last date for us. We parted ways with the other couple for our activity. His roommates had claimed the apartment TV that night so he grabbed a projector and set up a little drive in movie for us near Vivian Park.
He brought a good movie which I had already seen. It wasn't long until I had nodded off.
Keep in mind that:
a) We had just met
b) He forgot my name not 2 hours before
c) We are not cuddling for holding hands
So when I woke up to his hot, spit covered lips on mine, TRUST me-- I was not a happy camper. I was so shocked, I just pulled away and said, "Excuse me, but I'm sleeping." (Really biting remarks never come when you need them.)
Anyway, the rest of the night was pretty awkward. He dropped me off without getting out of the car. We both said "sorry" instead of "goodbye". It was the last I saw of him, but at least I know I'm Sleeping Beauty!
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Per-diddle.
What are the worst sort of dates?
I have learned to say "NO" when your old Young Women's leader asks if her nephew can ask you out because he "just got off of his mission and needs to be more social." You didn't know that before his mission he wasn't social. That calls for one awkward night, let me tell you.
My parents met on a blind date, so I can't discriminate against them all because they do work sometimes. And sometimes your friends really do know the sort of people you are into. But 89.99% of the blind dates I have been on are ones that I prefer not to remember.
Except for this one. Because it's just too great of a story not to tell.
I was set up with a Utah-foreigner on a crisp October night. He got me from my apartment and opened my car door. Very gentlemanly. When we got in the car, he told me that we were playing a game. The game was Per-diddle. You know, when you see a burnt out head light or run a yellow light you hit the ceiling of the car yelling "PER DIDDLE" before the other person in the car? Yes. That game. He also mentioned that whoever wins at the end of the night gets to give the other person whatever they want.
**Remember Per-diddle**
Innocent flirting, right? Well, that's what innocent me thought.
He won. Of course, he won.
After our group activity, we headed back to my house to watch a movie. I have a living room with two large couches. There were 4 couples, two on each couch. We sat on the couch with his special blanket that he brought from all the way from his out-of-state home. (That has no relevance to the story, it was just weird because we were at my house with a plethora of blankets). I wondered (like every girl does) if he would make a move. I was sort of indifferent if he did or not. The date this far had been fun, but I probably would never see him again. I sat with my hand in clear view if he was daring enough to make the first move and grab it.
He wasn't.
I could see him glancing at my hand a lot-- but no moves. Instead he said, "Are you good at hand massages? It just hurts so bad right here and here," pointing to his hand and forearm.
I did an internal 'eye roll', and thought "Did he really just say that to me? He really just used that line on me to hold my hand, didn't he?" Apparently, some people still use those lines. I thought that had ended when I graduated high school.
Deciding to play along with his games and told him I was alright at them, and proceeded to rub. It didn't take too long for him to just hold my hand.... Shoulda done that in the first place, dude.
OK... so we continue to sit there, in a room full of other couples, watching a movie, holding hands. He turns to me again and says,
"Guess what I just remembered?"
"What?"
"I won Per-Diddle. You know what that means?" (I told you to remember Per-Diddle.)
I knew exactly that that meant. I owed him something. But I played stupid, just to see where this was going (bad idea on my part).
"No, what does it mean?" I asked.
"You owe me something."
"Well, what do you want?" (also a bad idea on my part to say this)
"I'll think about it and let you know."
I racked my brain, wondering what he would as for, but I figured it was a first date and I'd most likely never see him again so not too much damage could be done.
I was innocently watching the movie when he turned to me and said,
"I know what I want now. But I can't tell you, I have to show you."
Before I had ANY time to think about what was said, in one fell swoop he planted a nice juicy one on me. There were about 10 things screaming in my head at this moment such as--
1. We are in a room with 6 other people, how can they not be seeing this right now?
2. What if my parents walk in?
3. Why the freak is he kissing me? I have known him less than 24 hours.
4. I think I am kissing a dead fish. Why is he not moving?
5. I did NOT see that coming. How did I not see that coming?
6. I had no time to even turn my head.
7. Why is he still trying to kiss me? His lips are not moving.
8. I guess I'll make the best of this situation.
9. This is the worst.
10. This is also the definition of classy kissing. NOT. No brownie points for you, dude.
Finally after a few seconds, I couldn't take it anymore so I pulled away. It was a little hard to do because I couldn't pull backwards. You see, my head was already in the couch and that just didn't work. But somehow, my friends, I was able to get out. I sat there in shock wondering what had just happened. He sat back with a sly smile on his face.
After about 15 more minutes of the movie he pipes in again and says,
"I just can't take it anymore."
"What, all of the people dying in the movie?" (Lots of people died, okay?)
He then laughs, and swoops in for ANOTHER kiss! ANOTHER ONE! I was again, in shock thinking there was no way this kid is trying to kiss me again. I pulled away, again. Hoping and praying he wouldn't try again.
A bit later, he kissed me again and I quickly pulled away the third time. They say third times a charm, but there was nothing charming about the third time. Or the second. Or the first.
I quickly learned this guy did not care we were in a room of people, or that this was our first date and he'd never see me again. I learned that the evenings 'events' had all been pre-planned, and that he was a smooth-talker.
After leaving my house that night (with no goodbye kisses, thank the heavens) he sent me cheesy texts about how great he thought I was, and I told him how un-classy and un-gentlemanly I thought he was.
To top this story off, I later found out from his good friend that every trip to Utah he makes, he plans on getting the Wasatch Special.
That was the first and last time I'd ever be anyone's Wasatch Special.
"I'll think about it and let you know."
I racked my brain, wondering what he would as for, but I figured it was a first date and I'd most likely never see him again so not too much damage could be done.
I was innocently watching the movie when he turned to me and said,
"I know what I want now. But I can't tell you, I have to show you."
Before I had ANY time to think about what was said, in one fell swoop he planted a nice juicy one on me. There were about 10 things screaming in my head at this moment such as--
1. We are in a room with 6 other people, how can they not be seeing this right now?
2. What if my parents walk in?
3. Why the freak is he kissing me? I have known him less than 24 hours.
4. I think I am kissing a dead fish. Why is he not moving?
5. I did NOT see that coming. How did I not see that coming?
6. I had no time to even turn my head.
7. Why is he still trying to kiss me? His lips are not moving.
8. I guess I'll make the best of this situation.
9. This is the worst.
10. This is also the definition of classy kissing. NOT. No brownie points for you, dude.
Finally after a few seconds, I couldn't take it anymore so I pulled away. It was a little hard to do because I couldn't pull backwards. You see, my head was already in the couch and that just didn't work. But somehow, my friends, I was able to get out. I sat there in shock wondering what had just happened. He sat back with a sly smile on his face.
After about 15 more minutes of the movie he pipes in again and says,
"I just can't take it anymore."
"What, all of the people dying in the movie?" (Lots of people died, okay?)
He then laughs, and swoops in for ANOTHER kiss! ANOTHER ONE! I was again, in shock thinking there was no way this kid is trying to kiss me again. I pulled away, again. Hoping and praying he wouldn't try again.
Oh, but this guy was a go-getter.
A bit later, he kissed me again and I quickly pulled away the third time. They say third times a charm, but there was nothing charming about the third time. Or the second. Or the first.
I quickly learned this guy did not care we were in a room of people, or that this was our first date and he'd never see me again. I learned that the evenings 'events' had all been pre-planned, and that he was a smooth-talker.
After leaving my house that night (with no goodbye kisses, thank the heavens) he sent me cheesy texts about how great he thought I was, and I told him how un-classy and un-gentlemanly I thought he was.
Don't worry, everyone. He got the picture that I did not appreciate his actions.
Loud and Clear.
To top this story off, I later found out from his good friend that every trip to Utah he makes, he plans on getting the Wasatch Special.
That was the first and last time I'd ever be anyone's Wasatch Special.
Tuesday, September 18, 2012
Happy Dating.
Until then, she had to go on dates
with all of these other guys.
The awkward date
The pity date
The man-it'd-be-nice-if-you-stopped-talking-about-yourself date
The please-don’t-tell-me-you-have-anger-management-issues date
The man-it'd-be-nice-if-you-stopped-talking-about-yourself date
The please-don’t-tell-me-you-have-anger-management-issues date
The kiss-and-miss-on-the-door-step-scene date
The I-wish-you-missed date
The lets-talk-about-marriage-on-the-first-date date
The I-wish-you-missed date
The lets-talk-about-marriage-on-the-first-date date
And the list goes on...
Living in the Provo/Orem area for over two years as a college student, my friends and I have had our fair share of the good, the bad and the dates that we can only NOW laugh at. It
is about time these dates are permanently recorded, and that is one reason why
I have created this blog (the other being I need a
good grade in my Communications class). I
will be sharing with you horrific dating stories that will make you laugh, cry
and feel blessed you were not in my situation--but maybe a fly on the wall.
Dating can be very stressful, confusing, lame, hard, etc. so I have taken the
liberty of taking it more lightly and just laughing at some of the crazy
situations I personally have found myself in.
I invite you to laugh along.
Now for some house keeping and maintenance:
1. All of the posts are anonymous.
Some boys
would be horrified to know their dating techniques have been posted on the World Wide Web. For that reason, all names, locations, or
details that could give away any personal information will be changed.
2. These stories come from personal
experience, and experience from my friends, roommates and family. So please
don't assume I am a dating fiend.
3. I may throw in some happy dating stories to
throw you off. They happen too.
4. I am not a sexist.
I do
not think that it is only the boys making catastrophic mistakes
on dates. But these stories are about boys because that is who I, and my
friends, date.
5. If you happen to be reading this and realize that YOU are the male that is being picked apart, thank you for acting the way you did so I can get a good grade in my class. Oh, and thanks for dinner.
5. If you happen to be reading this and realize that YOU are the male that is being picked apart, thank you for acting the way you did so I can get a good grade in my class. Oh, and thanks for dinner.
Well
readers, here's how to lose a girl in 10 dates (but probably less if
you go out with some of these hooligans).
Happy Dating.
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