Tuesday, January 26, 2010

A (Very) Brief Heterosexual Dating History, Bachelorette #3


Height: 5’8”
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Green
Talent: Oil Painting
Random Fact: She introduced me to the joy of Scrubs.

The Date:

Arthur’s good guy complex was really showing that day.

“Hey man,” he said to me one day on campus—before I used Facebook or even text messaging. He stopped me there at the corner of the quad under the pine trees. “I want you to meet this girl. She lives next to me in the dorms.”

Now what Arthur really meant to say was: “I want to ask this girl out, but don’t feel like I can because I’m not an RM and she’s an attractive Mormon girl.” He had this tendency of pawning off pretty girls on his RM friends to make everybody happy but himself. (Although after this episode, Arthur and Connie did date for a time).

I had been home from my mission a little over a year and it seemed like it was time for me to give dating another shot. I was completely open to a blind date because it was easier, faster, and nothing to stress about. If she didn’t like me, I could blame Arthur. (And perhaps deep down, I really did want it to fail).

“Her name is Connie,” he told me. “She’s studying art and geology and loves musicals.” (I’ll leave you to make your own why-didn’t-you-figure-it-out-sooner commentary).

“It will be a double date….” so he continued his list of reasons to convince me although I’d already been convinced in my head.

I’d be doing my celestial duty AND I’d have a wingman there if anything went wrong…

… and nothing did.

I showed up at Arthur’s in my nicest jeans and ready for practically anything. We then joined our dates at their place for a quick bite to eat before running off to play racquetball. We arrived only to find all of the courts occupied, so we moved on to plan B: golf

The now-defunct entertainment park was just plain ghetto. It had black lights and was mapped out with fluorescent tape. The conversation was pretty normal. We all talked about school and families and it always seemed that we could go a little deeper if we wanted to, but never did.

I thought to myself, Maybe this will work out, after all.

Right before Thanksgiving break, I confidently called her up and asked if she wanted to ‘hang out’ again.

“Sure,” she said, “my roommates have left for break already. Why don’t you come over and we’ll watch a movie?”

After helping her pack her car for a trip home, we had some dinner. The conversation revolved around her art and how photography was helping give her a better feel for composition.

Light_in_the_piazza As it came time to watch the movie, we sat there next to each other wondering about hand-holding and such. I put in the movie Guettel’s The Light in the Piazza, which I teased her would blow away her favorite musical—Phantom.

There we sat at opposite ends of the couch. We crept closer and closer, but by the end of the night, we realized that our attraction wasn’t quite magnetic enough to pull us as far as actual physical contact.

Not impressed with the movie, her delusions regarding Andrew Lloyd-Webber didn’t dissipate, so in my report to Cole, I cited this as the reason for things now working out. I really think that that conversation was the first sign to him that my interests lay elsewhere.

As I later figured out, she was herself and I myself. Things not working out between us was simply an uncontrollable circumstance with which we were 100% content.

Lesson: Being passionate about the things you love is the same as being yourself.

End, Part 3.


Anonymous said...

Ewww....racquetball in jeans!

C.J. said...

Oh, absolutely! I had a brief series of not-dates with my best friend, in high school, as he navigated the path to coming out. When he finally did (he went to college out of the country, in the hopes that this would make it easier to come out, and it did), I wasn't surprised. He asked me, in all seriousness, "why didn't you tell me I was gay?"

Fast forward a few years, and I went out on what turned out to be a pretty awful group date with a bunch of ward friends. The entire purpose of this date was to allow our friend to spend time with this guy she had a crush on. My "date" for the night--I was seeing Jim by this point, so it was platonic--made things especially uncomfortable. Halfway through a particularly bad round of mini-golf, he tried this line on me: "Jim's in Sweden, but I'm HERE!"

A Gay Mormon Boy said...

@Love in: I still have yet to play racquetball. I suppose I should know proper attire.

@C.J.: That's an interesting story about your friend. Part of writing this blog in the past is so I can make sense of things that didn't before.

Sorry about the "date." My "favorite" line comes from one of my 16 year-old students who told me that "age is just a number."

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