Dating does stink at times... but damsels must be rescued and frogs must be kissed, or in this case, there needs to be a body checked into the glass.
'Joe' learned from a mutual friend that I am a huge ice hockey fan and really what girl isn't! We began to talk to each other about lists of stats that we knew from our favorite teams, his being the Anaheim Ducks and mine the Calgary Flames, we soon learned that they were going to play each other at the Pond. So, he asked me out to the game. Hockey and a cute boy, what could go wrong?
Joe was a season ticket holder and suggested that he pick me up, since he had parking covered. He showed up in a Ducks jersey and I walked out in my Flames jersey. While looking me up and down he said, "This is going to be a fun night! I can already tell." I simply shooked my head and got into the car and off we went.
We were 10 rows off the glass, dead center of the rink. If his goal was to impress me and change me into a Ducks fan...these seats were a good start. Okay, home field = Ducks and I was surrounded by a brace, a flush, a flock and a paddling of Duck fans. So, I did what comes naturally to me at any sporting event "GO FLAMES!"
Those around us were all good sports about the little Flame's fan. The Flames were in the lead early in the first, then the Ducks came back to tie the game. By the second period the Ducks lead 3-1. I still had hope. But when the hometeam is winning at home the beer flowed a bit more around those who surrounded of us. Now there was drunken trash talk aimed at me and my mortified date.
I was a good sport about the talk since I knew that my team would come back, until my date began to heckle me. "You need to sit down, You are embaressing me and They can't hear you!" Needless to say, I was shocked, as were the people around me. So, I didn't yell as much... "Come on, body check him already, Pass the puck, POWER PLAY!!" Well, by the end of second period, Joe got up and yelled at me, "I'll be in the car waiting to take you home!" Oh, you read that right, my date walked out of the game that his team was winning and waited in the car for the game to be over.
I'd like to think that this moment would have unsettled me, but a Duck winger was checked right in front of me! My newly formed friends kept me company for the rest of the game. Some even asked why I would put up with that behavior from my boyfriend. They were dumbfounded to find out that this was our first and more than likely last date. Some of them were kind enough to walk me to the car, just in case, he decided to leave me at the Pond. True to his word, he was in the car and more than happy to take me home.
The Flames won 5-3 with a late third period power play, but he didn't want to hear it. The Flames may have won but my date went down in ...thanks to the Flames!!
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Reject
Reject. As a label, it is one of the hardest categories to accept as having been allotted. The process of “rejecting” is a cruel and painful one. For one brief moment, that which is being rejected has been singled out from the crowd, and while cowering under the spotlight of being the Center of Attention for all in attendance, the label of “Reject” is swiftly and callously applied. Then, as the refuse that it now is, it is cast aside, only to be remembered in the furthest corner of the mind possible, labeled permanently as “Rejected”…For life, it seems must go on.
Do you want to know WHY dating stinks? Because as it would seem…dating can only survive by feeding on the hopes of those who participate.
I realized a long time ago that as a continual optimist, I pour hope into the cavernous maw of Dating, satiating its need to survive. For over half of my life, I have optimistically gone from one potential girlfriend to the next, HOPING that this time, it will be different. I make no claim on perfection. I am fully aware that I (and my choices), play a significant role in the outcome of relationships. However, I can categorically state that every time a girl has made the effort and actually taken the time to get to know me…I quickly fall from the ranks of “Zach the Interest” to “Zach the Good Friend”. And forever thereafter, every time…when they need me, I am always available with arms wide open, ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear. I don’t know why this is. Perhaps my point of view is slightly skewed by the wallowing river of misery that I so often find myself wading.
But this is really all I can say right now:
The gluttonous belly of the Dating beast has fed many a meal upon the Hope of my optimism.
And that dear reader…is why Dating Stinks.
Do you want to know WHY dating stinks? Because as it would seem…dating can only survive by feeding on the hopes of those who participate.
I realized a long time ago that as a continual optimist, I pour hope into the cavernous maw of Dating, satiating its need to survive. For over half of my life, I have optimistically gone from one potential girlfriend to the next, HOPING that this time, it will be different. I make no claim on perfection. I am fully aware that I (and my choices), play a significant role in the outcome of relationships. However, I can categorically state that every time a girl has made the effort and actually taken the time to get to know me…I quickly fall from the ranks of “Zach the Interest” to “Zach the Good Friend”. And forever thereafter, every time…when they need me, I am always available with arms wide open, ready to lend a shoulder to cry on or a listening ear. I don’t know why this is. Perhaps my point of view is slightly skewed by the wallowing river of misery that I so often find myself wading.
But this is really all I can say right now:
The gluttonous belly of the Dating beast has fed many a meal upon the Hope of my optimism.
And that dear reader…is why Dating Stinks.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
An Evel Knievel jump
There was a time that I would go out to Arizona practically every other month to visit some friends. But one time, I called (my girl) Nancy to let her know that I needed a break from life and that I was on my way out for a short spell. As I drove out into the moonlit-filled desert, I popped in a cd that was made for me by the guy I was seeing than realized that he was breaking up with me through music. So with that, it made the six hour drive that much longer.
I arrived at her house and was thrilled to be with Nancy, her little family and a very striking single friend. That night we played several rounds of Loaded Questions (a game that reveals far too much sometimes but always good for a laugh.)
'Paul' and I ended talking well into the night. As he said are goodbyes, he planted a kiss on me. I have to admit that it was an earth-moving kiss. We talked the rest of weekend and he even helped keep me awake on my drive back to California.
As I was driving back home, we made plans for me to come back out without telling any of my other AZ friends.
I show up at the airport and he picks me up and we grab a late dinner. As we ate, he got a call saying that he NOW had to pick up his daughter since it was NOW his weekend. He looked to me and explained the situation. I said "No worries, I can call up Nancy and I can stay with her." He didn't like that idea. So, we both are on our way to pick up his daughter.
Now, Paul's daughter was the cutest little thing that I ever saw. While we drove back to his house. It was late and it was time for her to go to bed and only wanted me to read her the nightly bedtime story. She finally went to sleep and I headed to the guest room.
The next morning I woke up to a heated arguement on the phone. So, I brought his little girl into the kitchen and made all of us breakfast. Then lunch. Then dinner. With that I called Nancy to let her know what I have done.
In one weekend, I went from potential girlfriend straight to wife and mother.
I arrived at her house and was thrilled to be with Nancy, her little family and a very striking single friend. That night we played several rounds of Loaded Questions (a game that reveals far too much sometimes but always good for a laugh.)
'Paul' and I ended talking well into the night. As he said are goodbyes, he planted a kiss on me. I have to admit that it was an earth-moving kiss. We talked the rest of weekend and he even helped keep me awake on my drive back to California.
As I was driving back home, we made plans for me to come back out without telling any of my other AZ friends.
I show up at the airport and he picks me up and we grab a late dinner. As we ate, he got a call saying that he NOW had to pick up his daughter since it was NOW his weekend. He looked to me and explained the situation. I said "No worries, I can call up Nancy and I can stay with her." He didn't like that idea. So, we both are on our way to pick up his daughter.
Now, Paul's daughter was the cutest little thing that I ever saw. While we drove back to his house. It was late and it was time for her to go to bed and only wanted me to read her the nightly bedtime story. She finally went to sleep and I headed to the guest room.
The next morning I woke up to a heated arguement on the phone. So, I brought his little girl into the kitchen and made all of us breakfast. Then lunch. Then dinner. With that I called Nancy to let her know what I have done.
In one weekend, I went from potential girlfriend straight to wife and mother.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Are you sure....
I once met a girl through one of my best friends, it was his cousin and her name was Trisha, (not her real name). Trisha and I actually went out quite a few times. From my point of view, things were really falling into place. She was fun to talk to, an enjoyable companion in any situation, attractive, and very down to earth. I was really starting to fall for her. That's when things went weird.
We were out on a date and I decided that it was time to have "The Talk" and find out where this relationship is going. However, as soon as I started to tell her that I like her, and that I hoped we could take things to the next level, she replied by saying, "I think I am a lesbian."
Cue the awkward silence.
More awkward silence.
Just a few more moments of awkward silence.
It was about at this point that a new topic of conversation was started and we limped the dinner to an end and called it an evening.
We didn't talk much after that, but still stayed in contact every few weeks or so.
About six months later, she happened to be online and we started chatting to catch up and see what was new with each other. I finally got around to asking her how her decision to be a lesbian was working out.
She said, "I thought I was...but then I realized that I don't like girls."
Funny...I figured that would have been a pre-requisite to something like that.
We were out on a date and I decided that it was time to have "The Talk" and find out where this relationship is going. However, as soon as I started to tell her that I like her, and that I hoped we could take things to the next level, she replied by saying, "I think I am a lesbian."
Cue the awkward silence.
More awkward silence.
Just a few more moments of awkward silence.
It was about at this point that a new topic of conversation was started and we limped the dinner to an end and called it an evening.
We didn't talk much after that, but still stayed in contact every few weeks or so.
About six months later, she happened to be online and we started chatting to catch up and see what was new with each other. I finally got around to asking her how her decision to be a lesbian was working out.
She said, "I thought I was...but then I realized that I don't like girls."
Funny...I figured that would have been a pre-requisite to something like that.
Monday, July 5, 2010
I'll take the chef's special and a side of ex-girlfriend
'Scott' was a guy that I had been eyeing for a short while and finally asked me out to dinner and what he called a mini adventured-filled date, with the prospect of an adventure I could hardly say no.
So he picked me up at my place we headed to one of my favorite BBQ places this side of the Rockies. But along the way, he took the scenic route and showed me some of the weirdest houses that I have ever seen in Orange County. I was thoroughly entertained by what people did to make the home unique looking. I was truly surprised by what I saw. We finally arrived at the restaurant. We sat and talked while waiting for our table.
Once we sat down and the food was ordered, Scott turned ghost-white. I slightly panicked. I really didn't want to use any of life saving skills this evening. He was speechless. He tried to talked and nothing came out. Finally, he pointed to typical looking California blond girl. Since I didn't have my secret decoder ring, he eventually was able to speak again. "That's my ex-girlfriend." I thought nothing of that since all of have an ex that we don't want to deal with. He continued, "I have a restraining order out on her. She can not be more that 500 feet from me at any given time. I am going to tell the manager what is going on. Could you call the police for me?"
No date should have to call the police. But was more disconcerting was that he had all the local police departments on his contacts. All I had to do was get to the right city and then made the call. While he was letting the manager know about the situation, she came over to our table to speak with me. "Hi, I'm Becky. I just wanted to let you know that YOU are having dinner with MY boyfriend. He is only doing this to get even with me for trashing his apartment. So, you might want to leave him alone and get the hell out of here." Now my thoughts were whirling, I was preparing for the worse from her, she could hit me, which means I would end up hitting her back. Hmm, assault on the first date, not the best idea. She could try to reach for a knife. Another knife wound, thank you...no. Or she could try to tackle me and it would turn into a cat fight and I would never be able to go back and eat there. I could not let that happen!
Before any thing could happen, the manager asked if she could meet the police officers at the front door. As she got up to leave, she threw a hard left at my face. Luckily for me, she hit like a girl. But, the police officers saw the hit and came running to my table and took her down. She was hauled off into the backseat of the squad car. I made sure to be on my best behavior after that.
We got dinner to go and finished up the rest of the date filling out incident reports and pressing charges.
So he picked me up at my place we headed to one of my favorite BBQ places this side of the Rockies. But along the way, he took the scenic route and showed me some of the weirdest houses that I have ever seen in Orange County. I was thoroughly entertained by what people did to make the home unique looking. I was truly surprised by what I saw. We finally arrived at the restaurant. We sat and talked while waiting for our table.
Once we sat down and the food was ordered, Scott turned ghost-white. I slightly panicked. I really didn't want to use any of life saving skills this evening. He was speechless. He tried to talked and nothing came out. Finally, he pointed to typical looking California blond girl. Since I didn't have my secret decoder ring, he eventually was able to speak again. "That's my ex-girlfriend." I thought nothing of that since all of have an ex that we don't want to deal with. He continued, "I have a restraining order out on her. She can not be more that 500 feet from me at any given time. I am going to tell the manager what is going on. Could you call the police for me?"
No date should have to call the police. But was more disconcerting was that he had all the local police departments on his contacts. All I had to do was get to the right city and then made the call. While he was letting the manager know about the situation, she came over to our table to speak with me. "Hi, I'm Becky. I just wanted to let you know that YOU are having dinner with MY boyfriend. He is only doing this to get even with me for trashing his apartment. So, you might want to leave him alone and get the hell out of here." Now my thoughts were whirling, I was preparing for the worse from her, she could hit me, which means I would end up hitting her back. Hmm, assault on the first date, not the best idea. She could try to reach for a knife. Another knife wound, thank you...no. Or she could try to tackle me and it would turn into a cat fight and I would never be able to go back and eat there. I could not let that happen!
Before any thing could happen, the manager asked if she could meet the police officers at the front door. As she got up to leave, she threw a hard left at my face. Luckily for me, she hit like a girl. But, the police officers saw the hit and came running to my table and took her down. She was hauled off into the backseat of the squad car. I made sure to be on my best behavior after that.
We got dinner to go and finished up the rest of the date filling out incident reports and pressing charges.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Halloween
It appears that my cohort in crime has had quite a few costume-themed dates. I suppose that, apropos I should also share one of my costume-enamoured dates.
Several, (as in over 10), years ago I was invited to a Halloween party that was being hosted by one of my mission companions and his wife. They told me that I absolutely MUST show up with a date. So I decided to ask a co-worker with whom I was very good friends.
Her reaction was a bit of surprise to me as she enthusiastically exclaimed that she had the perfect costume. A Victoria's Secret Angel!
I didn't believe her...until I picked her up the night of the party. Sure enough...she was dressed up exactly like a Victoria's Secret Angel. Large white angel wings, white bikini swimsuit, and high heels. Perhaps they were stilettos. Fashionable sling-back? I don't know...I just know that she didn't miss a detail.
Now don't get me wrong, this girl was the epitome of what the people over at Vickie's were looking for in a model. She easily pulled off the world's view of what this costume should be.
It was just slightly awkward at the pre-dominantly LDS Halloween party, as all of the husbands did their best to NOT ogle her and all of the wives made it quite clear that they did NOT approve of her costume.
Surprisingly, this was not the part of this date that would fall under the "Why Dating Stinks" category. The stinky part was the fact that over the years that I knew her, this girl came to me for everything...except a relationship. I was her confidant, her shoulder to cry on, her free dinner whenever she needed, her FRIEND. She knew that she could always count on me. No matter what time of the day, she knew I would answer her phone calls.
However, she never considered at me as anything but, "Just a Friend". That title is one of the worst that can ever be passed between a male and female. It took me a long time to figure out what was going on...but finally realized that the reason she never gave me a chance as a boyfriend, was because my bank statement wasn't big enough.
If only I had been rich...I could have had a chance at a "Trophy Wife".
Eh...I'm probably better off.
Several, (as in over 10), years ago I was invited to a Halloween party that was being hosted by one of my mission companions and his wife. They told me that I absolutely MUST show up with a date. So I decided to ask a co-worker with whom I was very good friends.
Her reaction was a bit of surprise to me as she enthusiastically exclaimed that she had the perfect costume. A Victoria's Secret Angel!
I didn't believe her...until I picked her up the night of the party. Sure enough...she was dressed up exactly like a Victoria's Secret Angel. Large white angel wings, white bikini swimsuit, and high heels. Perhaps they were stilettos. Fashionable sling-back? I don't know...I just know that she didn't miss a detail.
Now don't get me wrong, this girl was the epitome of what the people over at Vickie's were looking for in a model. She easily pulled off the world's view of what this costume should be.
It was just slightly awkward at the pre-dominantly LDS Halloween party, as all of the husbands did their best to NOT ogle her and all of the wives made it quite clear that they did NOT approve of her costume.
Surprisingly, this was not the part of this date that would fall under the "Why Dating Stinks" category. The stinky part was the fact that over the years that I knew her, this girl came to me for everything...except a relationship. I was her confidant, her shoulder to cry on, her free dinner whenever she needed, her FRIEND. She knew that she could always count on me. No matter what time of the day, she knew I would answer her phone calls.
However, she never considered at me as anything but, "Just a Friend". That title is one of the worst that can ever be passed between a male and female. It took me a long time to figure out what was going on...but finally realized that the reason she never gave me a chance as a boyfriend, was because my bank statement wasn't big enough.
If only I had been rich...I could have had a chance at a "Trophy Wife".
Eh...I'm probably better off.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Not quite the Addams Family
Every year there is an random costume party in August. Last August was different. Randi and Frank decided that since they were in a relationship that the theme of the party would be famous couples of the silver screen.
Frank has know me for years and knew that I would never miss the party and asked if I was taking anyone yet. To my chagrin, I had to say no. With that being said; a glimmer began to shine through his eyes. I knew than that I was going to be in BIG trouble. Famously he said, "I know a guy that would be perfect for you and for this party!" Frank, being the go-getter type called right than and there. He was describing me in every detail to "Gomez", who I could hear give a 'Hell, yeah I'll go! Tell that I will meet her there at the party and to dress like Mortica Addams.'
As the sun set, our party began. I showed up and made the usual rounds of hello's and how are you's. Randi knowing what Frank had done, had said that Gomez would like to make an big entrance and asked that I meet him down the street at his car so that we could walk into the party together. So, there I go dressed as Morticia Addams in the middle of August about to meet my Gomez.
Standing by his 1933 Packard V-12 (just like the movie!) dressed perfectly as Gomez Addams. He looked normal enough. But he started talking and his stock began to plummet. Gomez let me know that he is a die hard fan of the comics, television and movies of the Addams family. So much so, that his costume wasn't a costume. It was his everyday wear. He even was in the process of building a house exactly like the Addams family. As we walked up to the party, he let me know that I looked very much like Morticia and asked if I was wearing a wig. Taken slightly aback, "Nope, this is my real hair."
He opened the door and loudly declared, "Everyone, this is my Morticia!" and in turn I said "Bubele" which caused him to grab my arm and began kissing it all the way up to the shoulder. I went along with it since I knew it was typical of their character traits. But as the night progessed and we finally had a moment to slow dance, he declared "I only date girls that look and act like Morticia. You fit me perfectly!! What do you say to graveyard date next Saturday night?"
For as dark and twisted as I am, I had to say yeah-no.
Frank has know me for years and knew that I would never miss the party and asked if I was taking anyone yet. To my chagrin, I had to say no. With that being said; a glimmer began to shine through his eyes. I knew than that I was going to be in BIG trouble. Famously he said, "I know a guy that would be perfect for you and for this party!" Frank, being the go-getter type called right than and there. He was describing me in every detail to "Gomez", who I could hear give a 'Hell, yeah I'll go! Tell that I will meet her there at the party and to dress like Mortica Addams.'
As the sun set, our party began. I showed up and made the usual rounds of hello's and how are you's. Randi knowing what Frank had done, had said that Gomez would like to make an big entrance and asked that I meet him down the street at his car so that we could walk into the party together. So, there I go dressed as Morticia Addams in the middle of August about to meet my Gomez.
Standing by his 1933 Packard V-12 (just like the movie!) dressed perfectly as Gomez Addams. He looked normal enough. But he started talking and his stock began to plummet. Gomez let me know that he is a die hard fan of the comics, television and movies of the Addams family. So much so, that his costume wasn't a costume. It was his everyday wear. He even was in the process of building a house exactly like the Addams family. As we walked up to the party, he let me know that I looked very much like Morticia and asked if I was wearing a wig. Taken slightly aback, "Nope, this is my real hair."
He opened the door and loudly declared, "Everyone, this is my Morticia!" and in turn I said "Bubele" which caused him to grab my arm and began kissing it all the way up to the shoulder. I went along with it since I knew it was typical of their character traits. But as the night progessed and we finally had a moment to slow dance, he declared "I only date girls that look and act like Morticia. You fit me perfectly!! What do you say to graveyard date next Saturday night?"
For as dark and twisted as I am, I had to say yeah-no.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Sometimes...it's not the girl
Several years ago I was at my parents' house watching TV on a Sunday evening when the doorbell rang. As I opened the door, I saw the eager, and very tall face of the Stake President standing in the entry way. After greeting this good man, I told him that my father, (who was currently serving as a bishop), was not at home, but that I would be happy to leave a message. He responded as such:
"I'm not here for him...I came for you. Put on a suit and come jump in the car with me."
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the Mormon hierarchy of offices, when a Stake President tells you to do something, it is best that you are finishing the Double-Windsor on that tie around your neck, before you begin to question why.
So lickety-split, I quickly changed into the requested attire and found myself in the front seat of his car heading west...destination, completely unknown.
As we drove away from the house, he began to explain some of what was going on. As best as I can recollect, these are his exact words:
"I decided to bring you along as my traveling companion tonight to make a few visits. A girl with whom I work, her sister just passed away. The viewing is this evening and we are on our way to pay our respects to the family for their loss. It really is tragic as the sister was quite young and left behind a husband and some small children. I asked you to come along because I think you could really hit it off with the girl I work with."
This is what I thought:
"WHAT THE WHAT?? You are taking me to a viewing, for a person I don't know, and a family I have never met, to set me up with a girl, who happens to be the deceased's sister, because you think I will click with her...am I hearing you correctly??"
This is what I said:
"Ok"
So we arrived at the funeral home. Now mind you, I had NO idea who any of these people were, however, I was expected to appear as a grieving friend/acquaintance of the family. As we entered the funeral home, I was desperately trying to convey a sense of loss and sadness on my exterior, while my inner-self was struggling not to burst out laughing at the audacity of the situation I found myself in. People were streaming in and out of the building, all saddened at the loss of life, while I could only shake my head wondering how things like this happen to me.
The Stake President asked me to wait in the foyer, while he went to pay his respects to the family, and find my future wife. I had no problem waiting there as I don't think I had it in me to offer my condolences to a family I didn't know, for the loss of an individual whom I had never met, not heard of...but was expected to date her sister.
For the next 20 minutes, I stood awkwardly near a large, decorative vase, solemn expression on my face, and a nod of understanding and support to each person who came in and out of the funeral home that night. Some took my hand, and there was even an embrace with a sweet geriatric woman who smelled of lavender.
Finally I saw the Stake President heading back my way. He had a look of relief, solemnity and eagerness all at once on his face. It was quite the sight.
He approached me and told me that he had spoken to the family. They were doing well considering their loss. However, the sister, his co-worker, had found the whole thing to be too emotional and too much to handle, so she had taken leave of the family and went home to get away.
Then with a big smile on his face, he said, "But don't worry...I think I know where she lives!"
It was at this point that I stopped asking myself, "Is he serious??" and pretty much accepted my fate and was curious where this night would play out.
And play out it did. I won't go into the sordid details of the next hour or so, but suffice to say that 4 houses, 3 neighborhoods and several questioning looks later, we found ourselves parked in the driveway of the sister's home.
We walked up to the door with pretty solid confidence that this was the right place and rang the door bell.
It was! She answered the door and with a very surprised look on her face, greeted her co-worker standing on the porch with some Body By Gilligan stranger with a slightly receding hairline, (both in suits), smiling back at her. The Stake President and she began conversing, he sharing with her his condolences and sincere feelings of sorrow for her loss. She gracefully accepting the offerings of support and love, meanwhile, stealing curious glances at this stranger standing awkwardly at the side. Our Stake President introduced me as his "traveling companion" for the evening, and my entire role for the evening had satisfactorily been filled.
As we climbed into the car a few minutes later, he eagerly and excitedly asked me what I thought of her. I shared with him my honest assessment that she was an attractive young woman who seemed a bit shy and reserved, (though I couldn't imagine why at that point). He then went on to say he would get me her e-mail address, and he would give mine to her, so that we could officially "hit it off".
Several weeks later, and probably only 3 or 4 e-mail exchanges later, I got from her, her side of the story when the NEXT day at work, he had approached her and asked her point blank, "So what did you think of that young man I had with me last night?"
He seemed surprised when she didn't really remember much about meeting me.
She must have had something else on her mind...
"I'm not here for him...I came for you. Put on a suit and come jump in the car with me."
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with the Mormon hierarchy of offices, when a Stake President tells you to do something, it is best that you are finishing the Double-Windsor on that tie around your neck, before you begin to question why.
So lickety-split, I quickly changed into the requested attire and found myself in the front seat of his car heading west...destination, completely unknown.
As we drove away from the house, he began to explain some of what was going on. As best as I can recollect, these are his exact words:
"I decided to bring you along as my traveling companion tonight to make a few visits. A girl with whom I work, her sister just passed away. The viewing is this evening and we are on our way to pay our respects to the family for their loss. It really is tragic as the sister was quite young and left behind a husband and some small children. I asked you to come along because I think you could really hit it off with the girl I work with."
This is what I thought:
"WHAT THE WHAT?? You are taking me to a viewing, for a person I don't know, and a family I have never met, to set me up with a girl, who happens to be the deceased's sister, because you think I will click with her...am I hearing you correctly??"
This is what I said:
"Ok"
So we arrived at the funeral home. Now mind you, I had NO idea who any of these people were, however, I was expected to appear as a grieving friend/acquaintance of the family. As we entered the funeral home, I was desperately trying to convey a sense of loss and sadness on my exterior, while my inner-self was struggling not to burst out laughing at the audacity of the situation I found myself in. People were streaming in and out of the building, all saddened at the loss of life, while I could only shake my head wondering how things like this happen to me.
The Stake President asked me to wait in the foyer, while he went to pay his respects to the family, and find my future wife. I had no problem waiting there as I don't think I had it in me to offer my condolences to a family I didn't know, for the loss of an individual whom I had never met, not heard of...but was expected to date her sister.
For the next 20 minutes, I stood awkwardly near a large, decorative vase, solemn expression on my face, and a nod of understanding and support to each person who came in and out of the funeral home that night. Some took my hand, and there was even an embrace with a sweet geriatric woman who smelled of lavender.
Finally I saw the Stake President heading back my way. He had a look of relief, solemnity and eagerness all at once on his face. It was quite the sight.
He approached me and told me that he had spoken to the family. They were doing well considering their loss. However, the sister, his co-worker, had found the whole thing to be too emotional and too much to handle, so she had taken leave of the family and went home to get away.
Then with a big smile on his face, he said, "But don't worry...I think I know where she lives!"
It was at this point that I stopped asking myself, "Is he serious??" and pretty much accepted my fate and was curious where this night would play out.
And play out it did. I won't go into the sordid details of the next hour or so, but suffice to say that 4 houses, 3 neighborhoods and several questioning looks later, we found ourselves parked in the driveway of the sister's home.
We walked up to the door with pretty solid confidence that this was the right place and rang the door bell.
It was! She answered the door and with a very surprised look on her face, greeted her co-worker standing on the porch with some Body By Gilligan stranger with a slightly receding hairline, (both in suits), smiling back at her. The Stake President and she began conversing, he sharing with her his condolences and sincere feelings of sorrow for her loss. She gracefully accepting the offerings of support and love, meanwhile, stealing curious glances at this stranger standing awkwardly at the side. Our Stake President introduced me as his "traveling companion" for the evening, and my entire role for the evening had satisfactorily been filled.
As we climbed into the car a few minutes later, he eagerly and excitedly asked me what I thought of her. I shared with him my honest assessment that she was an attractive young woman who seemed a bit shy and reserved, (though I couldn't imagine why at that point). He then went on to say he would get me her e-mail address, and he would give mine to her, so that we could officially "hit it off".
Several weeks later, and probably only 3 or 4 e-mail exchanges later, I got from her, her side of the story when the NEXT day at work, he had approached her and asked her point blank, "So what did you think of that young man I had with me last night?"
He seemed surprised when she didn't really remember much about meeting me.
She must have had something else on her mind...
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Generations of Hobbits
One night a group of us were having a movie-fest. There in the last seat on the couch was "Brandon." One of the shyest guys that I have ever met. We had met several times before but this was the first time that we actually talked. So, I sat next to him. He leaned over and asked me out. I was a bit surprised but said yes anyways. With my 'yes', he text me the rest of the night to finalized our plans and directions. Remember, that he was still sitting next to me.
The Hobbit is quaint little restaurant in Orange. I am just glad that I came hungry that night. This restaurant is known for their seven course meals. When I got there I was expecting to see a group of friends that I knew for a fun-filled evening. Sadly, this was not the case. Brandon, waved me over to this small unknown group and then he introduce to his mom, his dad and both sets of grandparents!
The conversation was a bit strained at first and then it just straight to Mount Doom in the land of Mordor from there. Each grandparent seemed to have questions and were waiting to for my attention. I was cornered in the cellar while having hors d'oeuvres by Grandmother 'Mae', "So tell me dear, did you go to the University?" Oh, good an easy question. We then had a whole discussion on the woman's movement that she was a part of help me be a student.
After a graceful breakaway, I become trapped by Grandfather 'Robert', "Brandon, tells me that you are a very busy little lady. Why is that?" Okay, still a fairly easy question. "Well, it keeps me out of trouble." If you know me, that statement is true, but apparently the wrong thing to say to 'Robert'. He cleared his throat and then walked over to 'Mae'.
The hors d'oeuvres were over and on to the main course. Just up stairs while waiting for our tables, the other grandparents, 'Bill and Diane' tag-teamed me. "So how close are you and Brandon to getting married?" Bold, very bold. After a few seconds of eternity, I simply answered that this was our first date. Thinking that answer would appease the masses. Boy, was I dead wrong. "That means nothing. I asked Diane to marry me on our first date."
Okay, there is an exit to my right, one just behind the grandparents and I'll bet you there's one in the kitchen. I could make a break for it. Brandon, finally seeing me with his grandparents came to my rescue.
Dinner was excellent. I must admit that this was some of the best food that I had ever had.
As dessert was coming out, the parents, 'Daniel and Lily', now had a moment for their questions, "So, what do you think of our son?" Tell me, how does one really answer this question when there are three generations sitting at the table. I simply smile, took a deep breath and said something along the lines that he was a very sweet boy.
The evening had come to an end and as we walked out, Brandon said "Wow, you are the first girl that made it through the whole date with my family." Turning to look at him with biggest eyes ever, "What do you mean the first girl?" He then explained that he brought every girl that he asked out on a first date to the Hobbit. He needed to see if the girl would be the right fit for his family.
Needless to say, I thank them all for a lovely evening and headed home.
"There is NO one ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them!"
The Hobbit is quaint little restaurant in Orange. I am just glad that I came hungry that night. This restaurant is known for their seven course meals. When I got there I was expecting to see a group of friends that I knew for a fun-filled evening. Sadly, this was not the case. Brandon, waved me over to this small unknown group and then he introduce to his mom, his dad and both sets of grandparents!
The conversation was a bit strained at first and then it just straight to Mount Doom in the land of Mordor from there. Each grandparent seemed to have questions and were waiting to for my attention. I was cornered in the cellar while having hors d'oeuvres by Grandmother 'Mae', "So tell me dear, did you go to the University?" Oh, good an easy question. We then had a whole discussion on the woman's movement that she was a part of help me be a student.
After a graceful breakaway, I become trapped by Grandfather 'Robert', "Brandon, tells me that you are a very busy little lady. Why is that?" Okay, still a fairly easy question. "Well, it keeps me out of trouble." If you know me, that statement is true, but apparently the wrong thing to say to 'Robert'. He cleared his throat and then walked over to 'Mae'.
The hors d'oeuvres were over and on to the main course. Just up stairs while waiting for our tables, the other grandparents, 'Bill and Diane' tag-teamed me. "So how close are you and Brandon to getting married?" Bold, very bold. After a few seconds of eternity, I simply answered that this was our first date. Thinking that answer would appease the masses. Boy, was I dead wrong. "That means nothing. I asked Diane to marry me on our first date."
Okay, there is an exit to my right, one just behind the grandparents and I'll bet you there's one in the kitchen. I could make a break for it. Brandon, finally seeing me with his grandparents came to my rescue.
Dinner was excellent. I must admit that this was some of the best food that I had ever had.
As dessert was coming out, the parents, 'Daniel and Lily', now had a moment for their questions, "So, what do you think of our son?" Tell me, how does one really answer this question when there are three generations sitting at the table. I simply smile, took a deep breath and said something along the lines that he was a very sweet boy.
The evening had come to an end and as we walked out, Brandon said "Wow, you are the first girl that made it through the whole date with my family." Turning to look at him with biggest eyes ever, "What do you mean the first girl?" He then explained that he brought every girl that he asked out on a first date to the Hobbit. He needed to see if the girl would be the right fit for his family.
Needless to say, I thank them all for a lovely evening and headed home.
"There is NO one ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them!"
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Mmm...drugs
Some time ago, I had the chance to take out a girl by the name of "Kate". "Kate" was a blind date that was set up over the course of several months. We had e-mailed for a time, and then finally, after both our schedules were finally able to match up, I had the chance to take her out on to an Indian dinner...(dot, not feather).
I knew from e-mail conversations that she was a very social and personable girl. I was looking forward to the evening, knowing that things were well lined up for a good time.
And I was not to be disappointed. She was pretty much everything I had expected, and I really had a good time. She was easy to talk to, had a great laugh and was just fun to be around.
Things were running smoothly when suddenly she got a text message alert. Being a HUGE fan of all things texting, I had no qualms with this. She said, "Oh, I have to check this. It might be my friend."
She then went on to explain, while she was answering the text, that her friend had been having some pains and they weren't quite sure what it was. Then, almost as an after thought, my date said, "I hope she has to have an appendectomy."
I did a double-take and asked her, "You WANT her to have an appendectomy? Why would you want to wish something like that on a friend?"
"Kate" went on to explain, "Well, if she has any type of surgery, then she can get some pain pills, and then she can share them with me!"
And then, with the pure passion of someone who REALLY enjoys something, her eyes rolled up, she clenched her fists in a grasp of excitement, and she said, "I LOVE pain pills."
I was then treated to a brief history of how whenever any of her friends have surgery or anything that involves medication, she is usually able to convince them to share some with her because, she "loves the haze they put [her] in". Sometimes they even give them to her as part of a birthday present.
I felt bad I didn't have any to share with her.
Kids - Don't do drugs.
I knew from e-mail conversations that she was a very social and personable girl. I was looking forward to the evening, knowing that things were well lined up for a good time.
And I was not to be disappointed. She was pretty much everything I had expected, and I really had a good time. She was easy to talk to, had a great laugh and was just fun to be around.
Things were running smoothly when suddenly she got a text message alert. Being a HUGE fan of all things texting, I had no qualms with this. She said, "Oh, I have to check this. It might be my friend."
She then went on to explain, while she was answering the text, that her friend had been having some pains and they weren't quite sure what it was. Then, almost as an after thought, my date said, "I hope she has to have an appendectomy."
I did a double-take and asked her, "You WANT her to have an appendectomy? Why would you want to wish something like that on a friend?"
"Kate" went on to explain, "Well, if she has any type of surgery, then she can get some pain pills, and then she can share them with me!"
And then, with the pure passion of someone who REALLY enjoys something, her eyes rolled up, she clenched her fists in a grasp of excitement, and she said, "I LOVE pain pills."
I was then treated to a brief history of how whenever any of her friends have surgery or anything that involves medication, she is usually able to convince them to share some with her because, she "loves the haze they put [her] in". Sometimes they even give them to her as part of a birthday present.
I felt bad I didn't have any to share with her.
Kids - Don't do drugs.
Monday, February 22, 2010
Democratic or Republican...worse Californian!
There has been rare occasions that I have gone out while visiting Utah. Ages ago, my brother and I decided that we wanted to go skiing in Utah. I had a boss here in California that had a condo in Midway that he lent us for the week. So, we drove up for some skiing and to visit some friends.
I called my friend Lisa to let her know that I was coming up. She in turned said, "There is a guy that you have to go out with while you are up here." I said sure with some major hesitation. He called and we set up a meeting place. Since I really don't know Utah, at the time we met at the only place that I knew of its location. We meet in front of the Provo temple in the morning. From there he wanted to show me the sights and sounds of Utah.
"Rick" was very attractive. He had the greenest eyes that I have ever seen. I was smitten, so I thought that there is no way that this could end badly.
Rick made me feel like I should have taken notes of everything that he was showing me. I have to admit that it was a fun way to have a history lesson. After he showed me all of Provo. He said that I had to see Salt Lake City. We stopped at this great little Greek restaurant and had a break from my history lesson. I soon discovered everything about Rick and I mean everything. I wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. I had never met a guy that had that much to say about himself. Other than my name, I think the only thing that he knew about me at this point was that I wasn't from Utah.
We resumed the sight-seeing/history tour. We ended out date on top of a hill behind the Capital building. I could see all of the valley. It was a beautiful site as the lights glimmered. Finally, Rick asked me questions about me. I had a chance to speak for the first time in nearly eight hours of being together. His first question, "Are you a democratic or a republican?" As I told him my political party, he looked bewildered. I asked him what was wrong. Still looking bewildered, "But how can you be?" Remembering who set me up, I simply answered, "I'm Californian." With that he took two steps back from me.
I began to laugh inside my head. He said he should get me back home. It was a very quiet ride home.
I called my friend Lisa to let her know that I was coming up. She in turned said, "There is a guy that you have to go out with while you are up here." I said sure with some major hesitation. He called and we set up a meeting place. Since I really don't know Utah, at the time we met at the only place that I knew of its location. We meet in front of the Provo temple in the morning. From there he wanted to show me the sights and sounds of Utah.
"Rick" was very attractive. He had the greenest eyes that I have ever seen. I was smitten, so I thought that there is no way that this could end badly.
Rick made me feel like I should have taken notes of everything that he was showing me. I have to admit that it was a fun way to have a history lesson. After he showed me all of Provo. He said that I had to see Salt Lake City. We stopped at this great little Greek restaurant and had a break from my history lesson. I soon discovered everything about Rick and I mean everything. I wasn't able to get a word in edgewise. I had never met a guy that had that much to say about himself. Other than my name, I think the only thing that he knew about me at this point was that I wasn't from Utah.
We resumed the sight-seeing/history tour. We ended out date on top of a hill behind the Capital building. I could see all of the valley. It was a beautiful site as the lights glimmered. Finally, Rick asked me questions about me. I had a chance to speak for the first time in nearly eight hours of being together. His first question, "Are you a democratic or a republican?" As I told him my political party, he looked bewildered. I asked him what was wrong. Still looking bewildered, "But how can you be?" Remembering who set me up, I simply answered, "I'm Californian." With that he took two steps back from me.
I began to laugh inside my head. He said he should get me back home. It was a very quiet ride home.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Soooo not funny....
One of my many blind date adventures took place back in May of 2005. I was living down in St. George at the time and a good friend of mine back in Payson, a girl by the name of Wendy B., or to keep it anonymous, W. Brown, wanted to set me up with one of her friends who lived near where I was.
W. Brown called me up one day and said, "Zach...there is a fantastic girl whom I have known for a little while, and she lives down there. She just had a birthday and you should totally take her out on the town to celebrate, and of course to meet her. She is awesome."
Well, how could I say no to that? So I agreed to take her out. Wendy B. gave me the phone number and I proceeded to call "Heather" and ask her out for that weekend. Fortunately W. Brown had forewarned her that I would be calling and the conversation went smoothly.
I should point out at this moment that in May of 2005, I was almost 30 years old. Keep that in the back of your mind.
So on the agreed day, I went to pick "Heather" up at her house. When she opened the door, I must say that I was truly impressed. She really was an attractive girl. She was very friendly and personable, and very easy to talk to. I could tell that this night was going to be fun.
We first went out to eat. My first impressions of her proved to be spot on as we had a great time conversing and sharing stories, and just getting to know each other. It was a lot of fun.
The next event on our agenda was to go up on the cliffs above St. George and fly kites. So up we went. This also proved to be a wonderful activity and we once again went about finding out more and more about each other.
Finally I got around to asking about her birthday and how it had been.
Me: So, you just had a birthday, right?
"Heather": Yes I did! Just last week in fact.
Me: Now going against all "Dating Protocol", how old are you?
"Heather": hee, hee, 18!
Me: *empty stare much like the proverbial 'deer in headlights' cliche*
I was in Middle School learning Algebra and fighting acne when she was born. Better yet...she was 9 years old when I got home from my mission.
Later that night, after having spent the remainder of the date at arm's length of this YOUNG lady at all times, I called up my dear, dear friend who had arranged this, and was met with a loud, long spiel of laughter as she knew I had found out.
I still love you, but, Touche' Wendy...Touche'.
W. Brown called me up one day and said, "Zach...there is a fantastic girl whom I have known for a little while, and she lives down there. She just had a birthday and you should totally take her out on the town to celebrate, and of course to meet her. She is awesome."
Well, how could I say no to that? So I agreed to take her out. Wendy B. gave me the phone number and I proceeded to call "Heather" and ask her out for that weekend. Fortunately W. Brown had forewarned her that I would be calling and the conversation went smoothly.
I should point out at this moment that in May of 2005, I was almost 30 years old. Keep that in the back of your mind.
So on the agreed day, I went to pick "Heather" up at her house. When she opened the door, I must say that I was truly impressed. She really was an attractive girl. She was very friendly and personable, and very easy to talk to. I could tell that this night was going to be fun.
We first went out to eat. My first impressions of her proved to be spot on as we had a great time conversing and sharing stories, and just getting to know each other. It was a lot of fun.
The next event on our agenda was to go up on the cliffs above St. George and fly kites. So up we went. This also proved to be a wonderful activity and we once again went about finding out more and more about each other.
Finally I got around to asking about her birthday and how it had been.
Me: So, you just had a birthday, right?
"Heather": Yes I did! Just last week in fact.
Me: Now going against all "Dating Protocol", how old are you?
"Heather": hee, hee, 18!
Me: *empty stare much like the proverbial 'deer in headlights' cliche*
I was in Middle School learning Algebra and fighting acne when she was born. Better yet...she was 9 years old when I got home from my mission.
Later that night, after having spent the remainder of the date at arm's length of this YOUNG lady at all times, I called up my dear, dear friend who had arranged this, and was met with a loud, long spiel of laughter as she knew I had found out.
I still love you, but, Touche' Wendy...Touche'.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Who's the man?...No really, who is the man?
Once in awhile, I realize that guys need a break from having to ask girls out. So, I have been known to ask a few guys out here and there. Some have said yes and others have said no. Now for the ones that say yes, I plan the whole thing. From the dinner to the activity. But most of them still act as the guy. They open the car door for me, okay, any door for me. They attempt to pay for the dinner or the activity, etc. All except for one!
'Bobby' was so different and a blast to be around. So, asking him out was super easy. I told him that I would plan the whole night. To which he replied, "That's awesome! What time will you pick me up?" We made the arrangements for Saturday night. I thought nothing of me picking him up.
I arrived at his place and rang the doorbell. To my surprise, he made me wait for 15 minutes to finish getting ready. Okay, maybe he was running late. It happens. Finally, after all his primping, we were off to dinner. We got to the car, I unlocked his door and then headed to the driver's side. I got in and started the car. I noticed that he was still standing outside of the car. I rolled downed the window and asked if everything was okay? Looking completely serious, "It will be when you open the door for me." This is going to be a long night at the rate that we are going.
I turn off the car. Get out of my seat, walk around the car and open his door. I wait for him to get into the car and sit down.
Okay, let's try this again. Off to Honda Ya. My favorite sushi place. I parked the car and headed to the restaurant. Once again, Bobby is still in the car. I walk back. Open the door to let him out. He said nothing. I am beginning to see why he still may be single. Now, this restaurant is truly authentic Japanese cuisine. One side of the menu is only in Japanese and if you flip the menu over, it's in English. Bobby didn't pick up on that detail. Well, apparently, Bobby isn't very adventurous when it comes to food. So, after I ate some fabulous food and paid for dinner. We left to watch the grunion run.
The grunion were in season and if nothing else it is so much fun watch everyone around trying to catch the grunion. So, as we got the pier I explained the night's activity and that is when my little princess explained a few things to me. Bobby would not be walking on the sand, since is bad for his feet. He also hates the water since fish swim in it. But above all, he hates being cold. With that, my fun filled date came to an end. Well, after I remembered to open the car door for Bobby. I took him home.
As I drove home, thinking to myself..."I make a lousy guy. I don't open doors and apparently I can't even plan a fun date. Oh well, good thing that I'm a girl!"
'Bobby' was so different and a blast to be around. So, asking him out was super easy. I told him that I would plan the whole night. To which he replied, "That's awesome! What time will you pick me up?" We made the arrangements for Saturday night. I thought nothing of me picking him up.
I arrived at his place and rang the doorbell. To my surprise, he made me wait for 15 minutes to finish getting ready. Okay, maybe he was running late. It happens. Finally, after all his primping, we were off to dinner. We got to the car, I unlocked his door and then headed to the driver's side. I got in and started the car. I noticed that he was still standing outside of the car. I rolled downed the window and asked if everything was okay? Looking completely serious, "It will be when you open the door for me." This is going to be a long night at the rate that we are going.
I turn off the car. Get out of my seat, walk around the car and open his door. I wait for him to get into the car and sit down.
Okay, let's try this again. Off to Honda Ya. My favorite sushi place. I parked the car and headed to the restaurant. Once again, Bobby is still in the car. I walk back. Open the door to let him out. He said nothing. I am beginning to see why he still may be single. Now, this restaurant is truly authentic Japanese cuisine. One side of the menu is only in Japanese and if you flip the menu over, it's in English. Bobby didn't pick up on that detail. Well, apparently, Bobby isn't very adventurous when it comes to food. So, after I ate some fabulous food and paid for dinner. We left to watch the grunion run.
The grunion were in season and if nothing else it is so much fun watch everyone around trying to catch the grunion. So, as we got the pier I explained the night's activity and that is when my little princess explained a few things to me. Bobby would not be walking on the sand, since is bad for his feet. He also hates the water since fish swim in it. But above all, he hates being cold. With that, my fun filled date came to an end. Well, after I remembered to open the car door for Bobby. I took him home.
As I drove home, thinking to myself..."I make a lousy guy. I don't open doors and apparently I can't even plan a fun date. Oh well, good thing that I'm a girl!"
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Clean fun...it's better than DIRTY fun
Your Mamma Told You To Scrub There...
Now it does happen, quite often, that you meet someone with whom you totally click and get along with. You enjoy spending time together, and you end up going out several times. These are wonderful experiences, and typically, at this point it usually takes something pretty significant to disrupt the happy path to possible matrimony.
I had been seeing a girl, we shall call her Phoebe, for a couple of weeks. Things were moving along splendidly and we had been out on several successful, fun dates.
We decided that this particular weekend though, we would stay in, and with the companionship of popcorn and the nestling of a warm blanket, watch a good movie and enjoy each others' company.
And that is exactly how it played out...up to the end of the movie.
As the credits began to roll, the lights were out, the mood was set, and that good ol' fashioned feeling of physical contact started to progress.
Ok, ok...cool your jets. It was all quite innocent and PG rated, so don't get your hopes up, or call my Bishop.
Anyway, we were kissing. She was very skilled in this art and we were having an enjoyable time. Well, being the suave romantic that I am, I thought that it would be fun to tease her a bit with a nibble on the ear.
So I worked my way over a bit and started kissing her cheek, and then moving towards the ear, I took my hand and gently brushed her hair back and out of the way to move in.
Well, as I ever so gently brushed her hair back, I happened to get a good look behind her ear and saw...
Wait for it...
DIRT
Small, black, granules of gritty, abrasive dirt, freshly planted and held in place by a foundation of thick, waxy hair grease and dandruff.
Now, of course on first sight, I thought that this surely could not be, as this much build up had to have taken place not over only a day or three of forgetfulness. This sheer volume of grime could only have been built up over the course of weeks to attain such mass.
So, feigning a genteel tickle of the ear with my finger, I went ahead and touched back there only to confirm what I already knew and should have heeded in the first place, and that was that this girl was in some serious need of some "Head & Shoulders" and a scouring pad.
Yes...the mood was killed, and so soon after...was the relationship.
Personal Hygiene...It's all the rage.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Ahhh...Thank you very much!
Elvis is not dead...he has been reincarnated in "Johnny".
A group of friends and I have Christmas tradition of going up to the Gibson Amphitheater (Universal Amphitheater, to you OS cats!) every year to see The Brian Setzer Orchestra Christmas Revue.
A few years ago, (back in my psychobilly days) the small group of 8 of us were prepared to put on swing dancing shoes and rock that joint. There was just one small problem, my original date decided that he no longer wanted to go with us. As his ex-girlfriend came back into the picture.
Well, after sorting out that minor mess. I called my friend Cassandra and told her the news. At first, I thought that she would share in my moment of misery, but this was not the case. To which she proclaimed, "That's perfect! I have the perfect cat for you. I've been trying to figure out how to get you two hell-cats to meet."
Now, I love and adore Cass, but her taste in men for me always fall very, very short. This would be no exception to the rule. The night came. We were all decked out. Dressed to the nines. Everyone had on their swing shoes. The guys were in the bright colored zoot suits, leather jackets, dungarees rolled up and bowling shirts. We girls, looked as if we were World War II P-38's pin-up girls that came to life. Nylon lines running down our girly legs, bright red lips and cat lined eyes. LA was our town that we were going to paint it red and swing the night away.
We met up at Johnny's house. It was retro Arts and Craft style house. Inside, you were transported back into the 1940's with a hint of the 1950's. Everything was vintage or complete rebuilt. So far, I was impressed with the boy.
Moment of truth, in walked Johnny, a true psychobilly guy. A perfectly shaved head. Except for the portion that was grown out to create the perfect pompadour. He looked like a greaser that would have given Marlon Brando and James Dean a run for their money. He was dressed in suit that could have been worn by Elvis Presley himself. Well, so far Cass did not let me down. But the night was still young.
We all piled into two cars. One rebuilt Bel Air and the other was a 1954 Cadillac that was made exactly like the one Elvis had.
Johnny LOVED Elvis Presley and I mean LOOOOVED Elvis.
We got the show and had a swinging good time. The two opening acts were pretty good and caused us to have an impromptu discussion to see about all of us hepcats making a trip out to Memphis rockabilly music scene. From there, Johnny said "Well, since all of you are Elvis rookies. We should swing to Vegas first and catch some of the Elvis revues." Now, in this group of greasers...Vegas wasn't a hard sell.
Well, Brian Setzer come on. We sang along. We danced in the aisles. The night couldn't have gone any better.
So with that, the concert was over and we were hungry. Pink's was our dinner of choice for the evening. It was a Friday night and we weren't on planning to come home until late and Pink's is perfectly designed for that. As we started eating , Johnny decided that we should all have a history of the life of Elvis. I was ready for a true fan to enlighten me on Mr. TCB (Taking Care of Business). Oh no, this was not the case. Johnny took off his jacket and button-up shirt. Then ripped off his wife-beater and proceeded to show us the highlights of Elvis' career that was tattooed on his chest and his entire back.
Don't get me wrong, Johnny wasn't bad to look at, but I draw the line with at least 25 different Elvis' tats staring at me. As he described every moment in perfect detail, I began to think, "Huh, he pasted passion and entered into obsession a long time ago. I wonder if I should tell him that the King is dead?" Well, according to Johnny, the King is not dead. Johnny also thought "Paty" didn't suit me anymore and called me 'Priscilla' for the rest of the evening. With that we headed home.
As Johnny walked me to my car, he began to speak exact like Elvis "Hey Pris, I had a swinging time. Let's do Vegas! TBC style! Whadda say?"
I could only answer back with "Elvis has left the building!"
A group of friends and I have Christmas tradition of going up to the Gibson Amphitheater (Universal Amphitheater, to you OS cats!) every year to see The Brian Setzer Orchestra Christmas Revue.
A few years ago, (back in my psychobilly days) the small group of 8 of us were prepared to put on swing dancing shoes and rock that joint. There was just one small problem, my original date decided that he no longer wanted to go with us. As his ex-girlfriend came back into the picture.
Well, after sorting out that minor mess. I called my friend Cassandra and told her the news. At first, I thought that she would share in my moment of misery, but this was not the case. To which she proclaimed, "That's perfect! I have the perfect cat for you. I've been trying to figure out how to get you two hell-cats to meet."
Now, I love and adore Cass, but her taste in men for me always fall very, very short. This would be no exception to the rule. The night came. We were all decked out. Dressed to the nines. Everyone had on their swing shoes. The guys were in the bright colored zoot suits, leather jackets, dungarees rolled up and bowling shirts. We girls, looked as if we were World War II P-38's pin-up girls that came to life. Nylon lines running down our girly legs, bright red lips and cat lined eyes. LA was our town that we were going to paint it red and swing the night away.
We met up at Johnny's house. It was retro Arts and Craft style house. Inside, you were transported back into the 1940's with a hint of the 1950's. Everything was vintage or complete rebuilt. So far, I was impressed with the boy.
Moment of truth, in walked Johnny, a true psychobilly guy. A perfectly shaved head. Except for the portion that was grown out to create the perfect pompadour. He looked like a greaser that would have given Marlon Brando and James Dean a run for their money. He was dressed in suit that could have been worn by Elvis Presley himself. Well, so far Cass did not let me down. But the night was still young.
We all piled into two cars. One rebuilt Bel Air and the other was a 1954 Cadillac that was made exactly like the one Elvis had.
Johnny LOVED Elvis Presley and I mean LOOOOVED Elvis.
We got the show and had a swinging good time. The two opening acts were pretty good and caused us to have an impromptu discussion to see about all of us hepcats making a trip out to Memphis rockabilly music scene. From there, Johnny said "Well, since all of you are Elvis rookies. We should swing to Vegas first and catch some of the Elvis revues." Now, in this group of greasers...Vegas wasn't a hard sell.
Well, Brian Setzer come on. We sang along. We danced in the aisles. The night couldn't have gone any better.
So with that, the concert was over and we were hungry. Pink's was our dinner of choice for the evening. It was a Friday night and we weren't on planning to come home until late and Pink's is perfectly designed for that. As we started eating , Johnny decided that we should all have a history of the life of Elvis. I was ready for a true fan to enlighten me on Mr. TCB (Taking Care of Business). Oh no, this was not the case. Johnny took off his jacket and button-up shirt. Then ripped off his wife-beater and proceeded to show us the highlights of Elvis' career that was tattooed on his chest and his entire back.
Don't get me wrong, Johnny wasn't bad to look at, but I draw the line with at least 25 different Elvis' tats staring at me. As he described every moment in perfect detail, I began to think, "Huh, he pasted passion and entered into obsession a long time ago. I wonder if I should tell him that the King is dead?" Well, according to Johnny, the King is not dead. Johnny also thought "Paty" didn't suit me anymore and called me 'Priscilla' for the rest of the evening. With that we headed home.
As Johnny walked me to my car, he began to speak exact like Elvis "Hey Pris, I had a swinging time. Let's do Vegas! TBC style! Whadda say?"
I could only answer back with "Elvis has left the building!"
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Big Girls Don't Cry
I Didn't Mean To Make Her Cry
For those of you who know me at all, you know that I could easily be described as a "Nice Guy". I have never intentionally wanted to make someone cry. But apparently, all it took was an introduction:
About 8 years ago, I was living just off of BYU campus and living the College Life Dream. I was active in the student ward, had great roommates, and best of all, had a full head of hair. I had it all.
One of the girls in my FHE group saw that I had it all, and thought, "Here is a great guy to set up with my friend 'Jamie'."
So this girl, whom we shall call Annie...because that actually was her name...I think, approached me after one of our fun-filled adventures in all things Mormon Monday Nights, and asked if I would be interested in going out with her friend "Jamie". (Which was not her real name by the way, in case you didn't infer that by the quotes)
After she told me a bit about "Jamie", I answered with an enthusiastic, "I suppose I could", and plans were made for a movie and dessert double date, (me and "Jamie", Annie and her boyfriend Paul), on Friday night.
Now, unbeknown to me, was the fact that "Jamie" had recently broken up with her long time boyfriend. This is important.
We had arranged to meet at the Wynnsong Movie Theater in Provo. The movie chosen...was a romantic comedy. I arrived decked out in my sexiest khaki Dockers, blue button up shirt and hair...which was quite full and thick, moussed to perfection.
I spotted Annie, Paul and "Jamie" as they came walking across the parking lot. I won't lie...I was impressed. She was an attractive young woman, and I was much looking forward to meeting her.
As they walked up to me, Annie began to introduce us. With a gesture towards me she said, "'Jamie', this is Zach."
To which Jamie burst into tears.
I am not talking a slight weeping from the corner of her eyes because my Acqua Di Gio, may have been liberally applied.
No, this was a full blown order of cascading tears with body convulsions on the side. The nose began to run, and this no-longer composed young woman, was in complete break down.
She turned and started to run to the car, lamenting, "It's too soon...it's too soon!"
Annie, turned to me, and with a sincere apology explained that "Jamie" had recently broken up with her boyfriend. I never did learn exactly HOW recently. She then invited me to still enjoy the movie with Paul, for which they had already purchased the tickets. She then excused herself to go and console "Jamie".
So Paul (whom I had also never met until that night), and I enjoyed an awkward, albeit...nope...just awkward, romantic comedy with an extra chair between us, while Annie and "Jamie" went home to be consoled by Messieurs Haag and Das.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
A Never-ending Questionnaire
A first date tends to involve a barrage of questions to get to know the other person enough to want to go out with them again. Some typical questions tend to be; where are you from? How many siblings do you have? What is your favorite kind of dessert? But not this date!
It started quite normal at one of his favorite surf and turf restaurant off of PCH. We met around 7:00 PM on a gorgeous Saturday night. Well, after our first meeting, I was excited to know more about him. We sat down and ordered our waters while having a chance to look at the menu. Since it was "his" place I asked what was good there. He said "Pretty much everything, but if you trust me, I'll order for you" I had no objections. I was having a dare devil moment. The waitress came back and took what seemed to be the longest order of food that I have ever heard.
With that our waitress left and the questions began. As I would answer one, it seemed as if he was taking notes under the table. A bit odd for me, but he could have a nervous twitch about him.
Finally, the food came and to my surprise my date did well on ordering my meal. From there, we continued the quickfire of questions. When asking a girl if she served a mission, this is not the way to go about it, "So, you served a mission, right? Couldn't get married?" I think my eyes became the size of saucers at this point. I looked at him, "You had bad experiences with sister missionaries, didn't you?" Silence from the other side of the table. After a brief moment, another set of questions, but this time the mini notepad (that looked as if it belonged to a private investigator) was now on the table and he would stop eating to write down my answers. As the dinner progressed, his attractiveness became less and less appealing.
Dinner had finally come to its end and now I was looking at the dessert menu. Next thing I know the menu is ripped out of my hand and he orders for me. I was shocked since I think that desserts are pretty universal. I could have been craving something specific. As we waited for the unknown desserts, he began to speak..."I have analysed your answers and I have few more questions that I would like you to answer for me." Analysis? Was I on date or an interview?
He then pulls out a portfolio full of paper. He rummages through the tabs and finally stopped on one. He looked over his notes before handing me a stack of paper.
I was now in the possession of a packet that looked like an examination that would have help me qualify to be a F.B.I agent. He handed me ten pages of questions. "These are the questions that a girl like you falls under. I think that you and I are quite compatible for dating."
Saved by the dessert! Placed in front of me a brownie with ice cream that literally looks bigger than the size of my mini cooper. I ignore the dessert since I have 240 questions to answer and return the packet back to him on our second date.
He notices that I haven't touched the brownie. How can I? He acts perturbed that I haven't even taken a single bite. I looked down at my questions, then look directly at him "Well, an answer to #14 is that I am allergic to chocolate, hence I can't eat my dessert." Again, leans into the table to make a note in his notebook.
With that he asked what I thought of the following Saturday to go out again. Normally, dating someone with a ton of questions, isn't a bad thing, but some of these questions were things that not even my doctor would ask.
Let me share some of my 240 questions:
#29 Can you bear children?
#50 Do you take a shower or a bath?
#89 Have you repented of your sins?
#124 In order, describe the first five physical characteristics that you notice on a man?
and my personal favorite
#240 Would you wear role playing costumes?
With that, he asked to have my dessert wrapped up to go and then we paid the bill. As we walked out, he still tried to ask questions for his notebook. "Could you answer #34 for me?"
Question # 34, how long do you wait before you call the guy after a date? Well, after half a second of thinking, I responded... "I'm afraid with this many questions, there may not be enough time for me to call you."
Go, go gadget car!!
Of course, I answered the all questions...privately!
It started quite normal at one of his favorite surf and turf restaurant off of PCH. We met around 7:00 PM on a gorgeous Saturday night. Well, after our first meeting, I was excited to know more about him. We sat down and ordered our waters while having a chance to look at the menu. Since it was "his" place I asked what was good there. He said "Pretty much everything, but if you trust me, I'll order for you" I had no objections. I was having a dare devil moment. The waitress came back and took what seemed to be the longest order of food that I have ever heard.
With that our waitress left and the questions began. As I would answer one, it seemed as if he was taking notes under the table. A bit odd for me, but he could have a nervous twitch about him.
Finally, the food came and to my surprise my date did well on ordering my meal. From there, we continued the quickfire of questions. When asking a girl if she served a mission, this is not the way to go about it, "So, you served a mission, right? Couldn't get married?" I think my eyes became the size of saucers at this point. I looked at him, "You had bad experiences with sister missionaries, didn't you?" Silence from the other side of the table. After a brief moment, another set of questions, but this time the mini notepad (that looked as if it belonged to a private investigator) was now on the table and he would stop eating to write down my answers. As the dinner progressed, his attractiveness became less and less appealing.
Dinner had finally come to its end and now I was looking at the dessert menu. Next thing I know the menu is ripped out of my hand and he orders for me. I was shocked since I think that desserts are pretty universal. I could have been craving something specific. As we waited for the unknown desserts, he began to speak..."I have analysed your answers and I have few more questions that I would like you to answer for me." Analysis? Was I on date or an interview?
He then pulls out a portfolio full of paper. He rummages through the tabs and finally stopped on one. He looked over his notes before handing me a stack of paper.
I was now in the possession of a packet that looked like an examination that would have help me qualify to be a F.B.I agent. He handed me ten pages of questions. "These are the questions that a girl like you falls under. I think that you and I are quite compatible for dating."
Saved by the dessert! Placed in front of me a brownie with ice cream that literally looks bigger than the size of my mini cooper. I ignore the dessert since I have 240 questions to answer and return the packet back to him on our second date.
He notices that I haven't touched the brownie. How can I? He acts perturbed that I haven't even taken a single bite. I looked down at my questions, then look directly at him "Well, an answer to #14 is that I am allergic to chocolate, hence I can't eat my dessert." Again, leans into the table to make a note in his notebook.
With that he asked what I thought of the following Saturday to go out again. Normally, dating someone with a ton of questions, isn't a bad thing, but some of these questions were things that not even my doctor would ask.
Let me share some of my 240 questions:
#29 Can you bear children?
#50 Do you take a shower or a bath?
#89 Have you repented of your sins?
#124 In order, describe the first five physical characteristics that you notice on a man?
and my personal favorite
#240 Would you wear role playing costumes?
With that, he asked to have my dessert wrapped up to go and then we paid the bill. As we walked out, he still tried to ask questions for his notebook. "Could you answer #34 for me?"
Question # 34, how long do you wait before you call the guy after a date? Well, after half a second of thinking, I responded... "I'm afraid with this many questions, there may not be enough time for me to call you."
Go, go gadget car!!
Of course, I answered the all questions...privately!
Monday, January 11, 2010
Too Much Information
Seriously? You Want To Share That?
When you think of information exchanged during a second date, what do you think of? Typical follow up questions to things learned on the first date? Maybe more detail about siblings, or where you grew up, or how you ended up in your current occupation. All pretty superficial and surface, right?
Apparently I have been doing it wrong, as one girl taught me that there is so much more to be shared on the second date.
Several years ago I met an amazing young woman who was a vision to behold. She was beautiful, happy, intelligent and at first meeting, every guy wanted to date her. She was one of those girls that walks into the room and all eyes turned to watch her. Male eyes to admire...female eyes to abhor with jealousy.
Being the suave and confident fellow that I am, I was one of the first to ask her out for an evening on the town after she had recently moved in. I was a lucky man. Or so I thought.
Our first date actually went pretty well. We had a good time, enjoyed conversation, and enough interest was piqued that a second date was planned. However, as those of you who have been on second dates know too well...the first date is when they put on the "persona" they want to appear as. After that, putting their best foot forward falls by the wayside and you learn who exactly it is you just shelled out $40 bucks for Macaroni Grill on.
We were well into the meal, enjoying great conversation and joking about the resume requirements the wait staff had to demonstrate to show Mac Grill customers how simple and easy it is to write your name on the paper table cloth with crayons really is...upside down.
Suddenly though, conversation took a turn to a more personal level.It was still light-hearted and casual, but the topic turned to children...specifically, HAVING children. More to the point, US HAVING children.
In one breath she had steered the conversation on our SECOND date, to an outlined calendar of our engagement plans, when we could expect to get married, how long the honeymoon would be, and on what DAY we could plan to get pregnant.
WE? Get PREGNANT? At this point, I didn't think that was possible for me. Still unsure of that.
As I sat there, trying to wrap my mind around the hairpin turn that this conversation had taken in less than a few moments, I mentally reeled back to consider how long I had actually known this girl:
Sunday: Met her for the first time
Monday: First date
Tuesday: Second date - Having Children Talk
Yep...less than 72 hours had passed since meeting her.
I re-registered my attention to the conversation that was continuing on when she stated in no uncertain terms that she was knew her ovulation cycle so well she could pin point the exact moments that we could plan on conception.
Her Ovulation Cycle?
Having three sisters, I knew somewhat what this term meant, or what it surmised. However, to leave me with no doubts, she launched into a very, very in-depth description of her ovulation cycle, what exactly was going on physically, psychologically and emotionally, and what I could expect since I was going to be there for it...all of it.
I know...I know...a sane guy would have called it quits with that date and moved on.
But she was really, really hot.
So Wednesday held the third date. Where she told me she loved me.
There was no fourth date.
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