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...