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.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
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'.
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