Facebook Status Date

What's on your mind?...


I had put up a Facebook status about wanting to go see one of my favorite psycho-billy rock bands playing at the Juke Joint. It was a normal status for Facebook. Then I got a comment from "Joe" questioning the band and their type of music. We began to message each other about the band.

He then asked me out via Facebook.

As I contemplated how that night would end up, my curiosity got the better of me and I said yes.

Let me explain, "Joe" is not the type of guy to you would think I couldn't imagine him going into this bar with a stage, surrounded by tatted up people listening to psycho-billy tunes.

We met up at the stake center and headed out to the show. We decided to grab dinner after the show to help us unwind from the concert high. We had to have looked like the odd couple going into the Joint, but no one else seemed to care. We got there a  little earlier that I had expected (since I drove) and decided to shoot some pool before the show. He wasn't half bad.

The concert began and everyone in the room could tell that this polo shirt and Dockers wearing guy was beginning to get uncomfortable.  However, he was a good sport and tried to enjoy the show. The band rocked it out! When the band finished their set, Joe turned to me and asked if we could leave since it was getting late for him. It was 9:00 PM and he had an early tee time.

Well, we headed back to the stake center. I began to think that was a bit odd since we still hadn't gone to dinner. I asked him if he wanted to grab dinner. He said no and that he was glad that the night was now over. He then proceeded to tell me that I was a bad and horrible Mormon girl since I would listen to such evil music and worse still, to go into a bar for a concert. He got in his car and drove away.

He didn't say good night or even good bye. I stood there (somewhat) in shock of what had just been said. Okay, I started to laugh at the very one sided conversation that we just had in the church parking lot.

Luckily, Del Taco was on my way home. I grabbed some dinner and headed home from my earliest ended date ever!

I noticed a few days later that he was no longer my friend on Facebook. My best guess...is that he un-friend-ed me before I even got home that night.

Oh Blind Dates...How I Loathe Thee

As I am mere hours away from yet another blind date in my life, (one that I was snookered into without being asked for consent), I figured I better get this story out here and published BEFORE tonight's blind date, so that, in the event tonight's young woman should ever stumble across this blog, she will know that this story is NOT about her, nor whatever may take place this night.

I actually have hope that tonight will be fun.

However, many, many moons ago I was out on a blind date. She was a splendid young woman. She was well-educated, personable, easy to talk to and she was quite attractive.

A mutual friend had been thinking about setting us up for a while, and finally approached us separately to gauge our interest level in being set up. I think there was some coaxing involved during both discussions, however, it was agreed that we were to go out.

So I was given this girl's phone number and made the call to set up our evening of fun and excitement.

I will admit that when I first saw her, I was quite impressed. As I already mentioned, she was, (and still is), quite attractive.

So the evening began. We drove around for a bit just talking and getting to know each other, and finally arrived at a restaurant that she had never been to and I had been wanting to try since I first saw it.

We looked over the menu and placed our orders and then continued talking. We had a pretty good exchange of banter and stories and overall, things seemed to be going quite well.

After our food arrived, she continued a story she had been sharing about a class she had taken. She was quite involved in the story and I could see that it was one of significance to her and why she ended up in her current vocation.

However, it was mid-way through that story, as I looked at her and made solid eye-contact, nodding along at the appropriate points, that I came to a very strong realization:

I just didn't care.

I didn't care about her story, I didn't care about why she graduated with that degree. I didn't care if this date worked out or not.

There were very few things in my life that I could have cared for less at that point.

It was then that I realized I was done with dating for a while. I didn't let on to her that I stopped caring. I continued to engage her and did my best to give her a good evening.

But after 20 years of failed dating attempts, after 20 years of putting my heart out on the line time after time after time, only to have it stomped on and returned...

I just didn't care anymore.

That was a while ago. I like to think my attitude has improved...somewhat.

Tag...You're it!

I'm all for a game of tag. I've even been willing to watch tag team wrestling, but I draw the line at Tag Team dating.

A few weeks ago I met these two great guys (think Top Gun: Goose and Maverick) at a party. We all had hit it off and were having a great conversation. There was a moment Maverick left and Goose asked me out. The laughter continued, as Maverick came back. The night went on. Goose and I finalized the details for the date.

Well, Friday night had arrived. So, there I was waiting for Goose in the waiting area of the restaurant, when all of a sudden Maverick is standing right in front of me. I greeted him with a hug and asked if he had a date there as well. "Yes and no." (Mental Note: that these two are joined at the hip and this date may up as a double date.) "Let's get our table and get this dinner started." My thought process decided to continue, 'Oh, this is going to be a double date and our dates are late. Great. The least that Goose could have done is let me know.'

As we sit down, Maverick orders an appetizer...and begins to tell me of the impending festivities for the evening. Suddenly out of left field, "Goose couldn't make it. Well... actually that's not true, I wanted to ask you out first but couldn't and since Goose is my wing-man I gave him the tag-team date signal that night so that he could asked you out for me. " And without thinking, I blurted out, "You have a tag team signal to ask a girl out for a date?"

We went on with dinner but, for the rest of the night I wanted to recall his 'man-card'.

It's Been Too Long

It really has been too long since I have posted. A large part of that is because I really haven't been on any bad dates lately. I have been on several very good dates...but let's be honest...you didn't come here to read about those.

Being Single in Utah is NOT fun.

Several years ago, I found myself at a social gathering with a good mix of married and single folk alike. I don't remember the event exactly...but I do remember a conversation that happened there:

I was chatting with one of my married friends, catching up on old times as we hadn't seen each other since he had gotten married. In fact, this was the first time that I had been able to meet his wife.

After the basic introduction and chit-chat that comes with meeting someone, the conversation took the following turn:

Friend's Wife: Oh Zach! I am so glad to meet you...I have heard so much about you. I hear that you are still single and not dating anyone?

Me: Yes, that would be correct.

Her: Well don't you worry a bit about it! I truly know what it is like to have to suffer seeing all your friends get married and be happy and you sit and wonder, "Why not me?" In fact, I had to wait until I was 27 before I finally got married! Can you believe that? 27! Honestly...it was horrible. But your time will come. How old are you anyway?

Me: 32

Her: ...

Karaoke Cantina

I still can't get over Zach's pyrotechnics! I have my own version of a similar story but that will be for another time. I would hate to have his thunder stolen...



There are some things in this world that will make me blush, make me turn into a shy little girl and make me go running for the hills! I had in one night, a date that accomplished all these feats at once.

'Aaron' had asked me out the week before. He said that I should pick the location for dinner and that he would pick the evenings festivities. I figured it wasn't a bad trade. I was craving a proper pastrami sandwich and there really only one place that is date worthy of such a meal. So, I told him to meet me at The Hat. As we went inside, I noticed that something was off with Aaron. Being the concerned date that I was; "Is everything okay?" With saucer-like eyes he stared down at me (he was 6'4") and began to turn shades of white that would put snow to shame. "No, I'm not. I am vegetarian. I don't think that I can eat here." This bit of information would have been good to know prior to me picking the restaurant. Luckily, I knew of vegetarian place down the road. So, now that we were eating at The Rabbit Whole. We talked about what we like to do in our free time. He was beaming at this moment. Aaron the told me that I was going to see is band perform that night.

Sweet! He was in a band. This makes up for the fact that he was a vegetarian.

So we get to Quan's Lounge. Aaron said that since he was a performer he would have to take a different entrance, but said that my name was on the VIP list. I entered what looked like a cheap version of the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars with an over-the top Asian flavor. I was escorted to the VIP section. Oh, yes there was velvet rope in VIP section!! The level of cheese was astronomical. Not the type of venue that I would have expected, but what the heck, "Let's see what happens."

While sitting in red snake-skin covered booth, a group of girls ran...I mean...RAN...to the stage. You would think that it was 1964 and the Beatles where making an appearance. One girl turned to see who was sitting in Aaron's booth. She the yelled over to me, "OMG are you with Aaron?" I simply smiled and informed her that I was his date for the night. She then kept talking to me, " Did you win the date contest that they had? OMG I am so jealous. Have you kissed him? Have you heard him sing? Are you two serious?" I don't think that she took a breath. I reassured the love sick girl that I was just a date. Nothing more. This was the first time that I was going to hear him sing. She was his biggest fan, at least that is what her glitter covered t-shirt said. The lights dimmed and the stage was lite.

There are no instruments on stage...again I repeat that there were no instruments on the stage. Umm, I could be wrong, but if you are in a band, there has to be instruments to play.

Over the speakers, the announcement comes. 'Ladies and gentlemen, for you pleasure, to open the night of festivities... The Repeating Lips" Suddenly, to my surprise there is my date, dressed in a suit that looked like a love-child of Elton John's and Liberace's wardrobe. The girls were screaming, cooing, sighing and I still think I saw one of them drool. The energy was intense it was hard to not to get sucked into it. But it was as the music started a medley of Journey and Chicago, that the crowd went wild! Aaron was the lead singer of a lip-sync band.

In his mind, this venue should have been Madison Square Garden. The band was in acting out the drums, the air guitar riffs and even a saxophone solo in full sequins regalia. This went on for an hour. Then Aaron was given a mic; "Thank you all for coming! For my next song, I would like to dedicate to the girl who has given me a magical night! Thanks Patricia." I was blushing! I matched the red snake skin. When everyone turned around to look at me, I started to giggle like a little girl. I was embarrassed but then again, I just had a song dedicated to me.

But then...Patricia?! No one calls me that unless I'm trouble or caught red-handed.

The song started so innocently: "I'm going out to dinner, with a gorgeous singer, To a little place I've found down by the quay; Her name is Patricia, she calls herself Delicia, And the reason isn't very hard to see..." a few lines pass and then, "You see Patricia, or Delicia, not only is a singer. She also removes all her clothing... For Patricia is the best stripper in town..."

Aaron is singing...wait for it... 'Patricia the Stripper' by Chris de Burgh.

Apparently, the only song that he could find with my name was about a stripper. I was frozen and stuck to the seat of the booth. I turned pale...paler then usual. Okay, the song had a good beat and you could clap and sing along. But let's not forget that the song is about a stripper.

I stayed for the whole song! It was the last of his set for the evening. It was song with story and my curiosity got the best of me. I had to know how it ended.

Now there are are songs, that will make me melt into my date, but Patricia the Stripper is not one of them.

I know it has been awhile, and I apologize for that. However, in my absence, I actually started dating a girl on a regular basis.

Sadly...none of our dates have been "worthy" of this particular blog. In other words, things are going well.

However, you have been patient in your waiting, and I do not want to disappoint any further, so I have pulled a gem out of my Grab Bag of Dating stories and present to you, "Lehi Girl".

I honestly don't remember what her name was. All I remember was that she was from Lehi. It all started one Sunday afternoon at my Aunt and Uncle's home in Springville. My wonderful Aunt Gretchen came in to visit with me, and soon got around to her intended purpose in striking up conversation. She started hemming and hawing and finally got around to asking, "Zach, there is a girl in our ward that I think you would be perfect for. I would really like to set you up with her...is that all right?"

It is quite difficult to tell your aunt, whom you care for very much, that you really don't want to get set up. I found myself engaging in stalling tactics trying to come up with a polite way to turn her down, however, she continued to laud the praises of this young woman and it became more and more difficult to decline.

My aunt started to tell me that this young woman had come into their Sunday School class that day and bore her testimony, and "had the sweetest spirit ever". Now, for those of you familiar with the Mormon Dating vernacular, you will recognize that "sweet spirit" is often used to help people focus on the inner beauty...and disregard the lack of outer beauty. So my aunt at this moment wasn't helping her own cause.

But, cave I did, and agreed to take this "sweet spirited" young woman out on a date.

About that moment, my Uncle Kevin came in and my aunt excitedly told him that I had agreed to take out this girl. He immediately turned to me and said, "Oh that will be fun...you woudn't know it because they aren't boastful, but her family is probably one of the wealthiest families in Lehi."

This girl just got more interesting.

Then my aunt opined that I better hurry and take the girl out sooner rather than later. I asked why and was told, "Because starting next week she will be quite busy with her running for Miss Utah."

And she just moved up the Interesting Scale another few notches.

I would like the record to stand that I agreed to go out with this girl BEFORE I knew she came from a wealthy family AND before I was aware that she was in fact, a beauty contestant.

So after the initial call to ask her out on a date, the day finally arrived that I was to meet Lehi Girl. She had told me the general area that her house was in Lehi and told me to look for the Camaro sports car parked out front, as that was her car.

To answer your current question...yes, she was quite attractive. But on top of that, she was actually very easy to talk to, entertaining, and just fun to be around. From the very beginning of the date, things were looking up.

So to start off, I decided that we should have dinner at the Tempanyaki Steak House in Provo. As usual, the entertainment of watching the chef as he prepared our food was very enjoyable, and we both enjoyed our meals of steak, chicken and scallops.

It should be noted that she did not partake of any of the scallops. This comes into play later. Keep that in mind dear reader.

After dinner, I thought it would be fun to drive up on top of Point of the Mountain and fly kites. I had purchased a six-foot triangle kite with 300 yards of industrial-strength kite string for just this occasion.

Thanks to the 4x4 prowess of my Toyota Tacoma, we found ourselves at the very top of the mountain in no time, with a very strong wind whipping its way from north to south.

We pulled out the kite and string and got it rigged up with no problems. Setting the kite to flight consisted of just hanging onto the spool of string and literally letting go of the kite. The wind lifted it to well over one hundred feet with no effort on our part at all.

So we settled into taking turns holding the kite while sitting on the tailgate of my truck and talking about music and concerts.

As we were discussing the various concerts that we had both attended, I felt a sudden gurgling come from within the recesses of my bowels. It was this point...that the date turned.

At first I just thought it was a little gas. So I stood up and casually walked around the truck mentioning that I needed to stretch my legs. Although I didn't really find that I had gas per se, I did feel a bit better. So I re-sat down next to my date.

That was a bad idea. The gurgling re-commenced...with a new fervor.

So I stood up again. This time, I walked a bit more and seemed to be feeling slightly better. But when I stopped walking...a new fury of gastrointestinal rage sprung forth from the depths of within and refused to abate itself. It took every last bit of conscious thought and effort to maintain some semblance of control over my bowels.

I calmly informed my date that, "something didn't feel right", and if she would be so kind as to forgive the early termination of our date, and perhaps be interested in a future outing, I would appreciate it if we could call it a night.

I think she could see the pain and stress across my face as beads of sweat began to form across my, (then well-follicled) head. She readily agreed and we began to put everything away.

At this point, I might add that what once was a beautiful and glorious thing to behold, a six-foot wing span kite, soaring through the clouds, now became the bane of my existence as I tried to rip it from its lofty height. It refused to come down quickly, but I soon found that the grab and jerk method cut it back down to earth more rapidly. It was then unceremoniously tossed into the back of the truck and we rocketed off the top of the mountain towards civilization and indoor plumbing.

For those of you who have never been to the top of Point of the Mountain, I should like to point out at this time that the 1.5 mile road is not paved and has been grated into what is commonly referred to as, "Wash Board". Over 7,000 feet of continuous mini-speed bumps that I was pummeling at around 50 mph. It was not a smooth journey.

I refer you back to the earlier paragraph were I described the inner battle that was quickly tipping sides between my bowel control, and the undisputed champion of cuisine chaos.

Plus 50 mph wash board roads.

White-knuckled and sweating quite profusely, I finally arrived, still pants-unsoiled, at some glorious asphalt and pavement. Heaven bless the person who invented that.

At this point in the drive, it was another 2.5 miles back to her house, or 2 miles to a sketchy-looking, sanitarily-questionable gas station.

I chose the gas station.

As we flew into the parking lot, I was throwing the parking brake on and jumping out of the truck as it was still settling into the parking slot. I hollered to my date that I would be right back and sprinted into the gas station, past the dozing cashier and down the hall to the bathrooms that lay beyond.

When I arrived at the restrooms, I was halted in my progress by a large sign on the Men's Room that said, "Closed For Cleaning".

I said aloud, "I don't think so!", as I pulled the sign down and threw it at the Women's Restroom door. I then jerked the door open and made for the nearest stall.

I will save you, the reader, a description of what fresh new horror took place in that stall, in that restroom, in that gas station on that day. But let me assure you...it was a fight between man and the forces of evil, that no digestive system should ever host battle to again.

Towards the end of my sojourn on the porcelain battle field, I took pause to look around the stall and bathroom and realized WHY it had been closed for cleaning. It looked to me like mine was not the only insurgence of meal time that day. It appeared the previous victor had not been the mortal warrior...but the unleashing of his....

Never mind that...I had a date sitting out in the truck!

I quickly cleaned up and, head a little higher, chin up and chest puffed just a bit; I proceeded to march back out to the truck and climb back into the driver's seat. By look alone, my date could see that things were much better now.

We proceeded to drive back to her home. I again apologized for what had happened and plans for a future outing began to form.

We arrived at her house and I walked her to her door. About halfway up her walk, the demons of digestion once again reared their ugly heads, and a fresh new battle ensued within. I realized...I didn't have much time.

However, we had arrived at her doorstep and I proceeded to give her a hug, an expression of gratitude for the evening company, and a promise to call her again. As I was turning to leave, her father showed up and invited me to come in and sit down.

There comes a point in every man's life when he reaches an extreme in physical exertion and bodily control. He comes to a line that he believes is the final extent to which he can go before collapsing to the reverse swing of exhaustion. However, it is in these moments that he realizes he can hold out, just a little longer, and remind the bowel controls that they are to be submissive to him, and not the other way around.

Although I declined the offer to sit, I did spend a few moments of anguish answering questions that her dad felt obligated to ask me. To this day, I feel bad about the brevity of my answers and the quickness of my responses as I tried to hurry the man up.

I finally was able to pull away from the house and head straight to the nearest gas station to once again take the battle inside.

After that round, I had a 20 minute drive to look forward to, as I made my way back to the BYU Approved housing that I lived in. At about 9 minutes in...the war once again resumed within, and I found myself gripping the steering wheel with a grand determination, knowing that it was my only focal point with reality at that moment. Everything else swirling around me was hallucinations and mirages messing with my sanity.

At 12 minutes in, my gas light went on, warning me that I was about to lose my chariot.

At 13 minutes I was pulling into a gas station that didn't have Pay At The Pump.

At 17 minutes, I had $10 worth of gas and was scribbling my signature with a shaky hand on a check that was barely legible.

At 18 minutes, I was screaming out onto the street and making my way through the Provo traffic towards my home and the sweet, sweet call of my toilet.

At 20 minutes, my truck still rocking slightly from the sudden stop and park that it had just been put through, I was fumbling with my keys trying to unlock the front door.

At 20 minutes, 5 seconds, my chatty neighbor came out to ask me about a good time to come over for some hometeaching.

At 20 minutes, 8 seconds, I begged forgiveness of the Lord for my abrupt disregard and ignoring of my hometeacher, while taking the stairs three at a time towards the greatest seat in a house.

At 20 minutes, 15 seconds, I found myself in a position that I would continue to hold for the next 14 hours as those scallops that once swam in the sea, were returned with a flourish to the wretched watery Hell whence they came.

As a postlude, I did apologize to my hometeacher, who admitted that he could tell something wasn't right. And I did call that girl again as I promised.

But then she met a guy at school and was engaged within a few weeks.

And thus ended my adventure with Lehi Girl.

Penalty Box: Five for fighting

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!!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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!"

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.

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.

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'.

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!"

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.