Sunday, July 5, 2009

Surrendering Stories

This is a white flag. I am retreating behind it and I will say this once and only once, and strictly in writing. You will understand when you are finished, why I do not often talk about these experiences. These are my comedic, horrific and even somewhat sadly tragic experiences dating (or undating, as I call many of these relationships) at Brigham Young University Idaho.

*For the sake of the privacy of those persons involved in these stories names will be changed to epithets, so given at the top of their own particular tales.

The Eager Beaver

It is my very first day of school. I am far away from home, and my closest friend is a roommate who had arrived on the same night as me, with whom I had had a bonding evening with when we were forced to eat ramen (from cup-of-noodle styrofoam containers, we had no dishes, little food, and NO kitchen-only a small microwave) with pens. I am desperate to gain more companions.
I walk into the classroom quietly, as is my usual habit, in hopes of finding a seat near the front or next to a wall. I look up to find it full of students staring balefully at me. I am late. I look around for the teacher but can find one nowhere. Finally a tall blonde man who looks younger than a few of the students says, "Welcome to English 111, have a seat." Horrified at the immediate attention of the entire class gazing at me as though I were a specimen to disect, or perhaps the next subject of a despised research paper, I search desperately for an empty chair, a friendly smile, Anything.
"Here, come sit next to me." A kindly pair of large blue eyes meet mine with a grin. He pats the empty seat next to him. It is next to a wall. I am wonderfully grateful to this handsome young man with the captivating blue eyes.

...Three Weeks Later...

"Alright, everone take your partners and off you go. You must stay on campus and we will meet back here at twenty after the hour." The Professor dismisses us to find flaws in the structures of the school, about which we will write a persuasive essay. "You'll be my partner right?" says the Eager Beaver, who has already earned the nickname from his constant habit of beginning to flirt with me every moment the professor stops speaking. Not to mention the fact the inadvertently shows up wherever I go, to do the same thing. Already he has found me at the Sunday Night Stadium Singings, a few dances, the grocery store, the library and several times just walking around on campus.
"Sure." I don't mind so very much, I'm kind of flattered with the attention. He's twenty three, an RM, and interested in me, an unglorious little eighteen year old fresh from High School. I sense danger as he leads me towards the gardens (given the title 'Make Out Gardens' or 'The Honey Moon Spot' by BYUI students, about which I had been THOROUGHLY warned) and head him off.
"Actually I think I know the perfect thing, its up near the dorms." I say quickly heading the opposite direction from the gardens. He is slightly crestfallen but follows where I lead.
"So, are you dating anyone yet?" he asks casually. That was direct, I think, but hey what do I know about people in Idaho-or college for that matter? Maybe all conversations here are direct.
"Um, no actually. So the place I'm thinking of, it's a basketball court-"
"Really? Pretty thing like you, I was sure you'd be taken by now." His smile is very charming.
"Haha..ha...thankyou...I just, um..."
He senses my awkwardess. "So you're from Washington, right? How do you like it up there?"
"Oh, Oh I love it," I'm just grateful we are talking about something else, "I love the rain and the tree's and the mountains. I hadn't realized it til I'd been here baking in a desert valley for a while though."
He laughs. "Oh Yeah. I'm from Oregon, I understand." Uh oh. "Probably right close to you actually, do you live near the bottom of Washington or the top?"
"Right on the border actually."
"No way! Near Portland?"
"Directly accross from it. Vancouver."
"Nice! Only about an hour away from me then."
"Oh,... that's cool...anyways I was thinking we could write the paper about these enormous cracks--" We really have only a few moments to get all the way accross campus and back, we should be concentrating on our assignment.
"Do you want to live there after you marry?"
"-and people are always getting their feet caught in them...Oh, uh, I guess...I hadn't really thought about it much actually..."
"I do. I want to take my beautiful wife and give her a home surrounded by tree's in the mountains. Not too close to any town though, I like my privacy."
"Hmmm...that's great, it sounds like a good place to raise a family. Really though, I can see the court from here, do you want to see the-"
"How many children do you want to have?" Woah! Ok buddy, this just got WAY too personal.
"Uh, I guess I haven't really thought much about that either..."
"I want a bunch, six or seven at the least. Preferably more like eleven or twelve."
"Uh huh..."
"As many boys as possible. Do you think you'd like raising sons?"
What the HECK?!
"I, uh, I don't know, maybe someday...I'm going to write down some information about the cracks now ok? You can take notes too if you like."
There is a blissful three minute silence, in which I scribble down descriptions of the cracks in the basketball court like mad. He watches me with admiration.
"You're a good student aren't you?" He asks with proud eyes.
"Well, I sure like to think so...we'd better be getting back, we're nearly out of time."
"Oh ya, ya you're right, we're gonna have to run actually." Looking at his watch.
We take off in a light jog and arrive as the last of the students are coming back in from their explorations.

...Fifteen Minutes Later...

The teacher dismisses us and immediately the Eager Beaver is upon me, raving about my ability to write a killer essay with almost no editorial assistance. Is this a subtle hint that I'll be working mostly alone for this paper? Or maybe a not so subtle hint. Hmmm.
Before I know it we've reached the steps in front of the Smith building. He swings out in front of me and turns to face me while I'm still on the steps so our faces are on the same level (He's about 6'2").
"So, Kristi, I'd really really like to take you out on a date sometime."
"Oh, ok. That'd be fun." I try to smile very nicely. Everyone deserves at least one-that's what I've always been told.
He gives me a big smile and walks away. Just walks away. Not a single detail of when, where, or how he would like to do this. Ok, I guess we'll just work it out later. I head back to my dorm, where my roommates celebrate my acheivement of first apartment date of the semester with cheers and a nighttime trip to taco bell (a tradition in that dorm), which I promptly threw up. I really should have recognized it for a sign...

...Temporary Conclusion...

Never again does the Eager Beaver mention that date. For the rest of that week he looks at me expectantly whenever I enter, as though I am supposed to say something. I don't understand. Was he implying that he would like me to plan a date?
The next week he is somewhat quieter as though frustrated with me for not doing something about the whole situation already. His silences are pointed and he stares at me a lot.
The next week he is nearly silent and I can practically feel him simmering next to me.
The next week, he moves seats. He does everything in his power for the rest of the semester to avoid sitting next to me. I can feel him always, in that overly heated English room, glaring at me from the corner of his eyes, looking away whenever I happen to glance in his direction. Finally the semester ends and in the joy of the Christmas holidays, I forget about the handsome but strange blue eyed boy.

...Hopefully Real Conclusion...

It is my third semester. My roommates are my best friends and I just love them to death.
Normally church is an apartment affair and we go in a big happy group. Today however, I have been asked to come a bit early for an interview of some sort. I approach the door with my head down, thinking about what is to come, and then it opens before me.
I look up to thank the young man holding the door open for me. The Eager Beaver glares at me stonily, his icy gaze challenging me to acknowledge him. I give a small nod, put my head back down and practically run to my appointment.

-A Matter of Weeks Later-

I have had three separate occasions of door-holding incidents matching the first. Really, this is getting ridiculous. Two of my roommates and I are leaving, church has ended and I really just want to get home and get some food into my empty system.
Eager Beaver holds the door open for the lot of us as we exit, staring directly at me. I've had enough. I meet his gaze and hold it. His face changes, softening, and he looks distinctly regretful.
"Hello Kristi." He says it a bit mournfully.
I'm sure I looked at him like he was crazy.
"Hello," I mutter as I walk past.
My roommates wait til the car door has closed behind me to ambush me.
"Who the HECK was that?!"
"Oh that was, well, just a guy I sort of-almost-kind of dated my first semester..." Really, I have no idea how else to explain him.
"Well why in the world aren't you dating him NOW?! He's gorgeous!"
"Um, actually, you know...I have no idea." I turn to look out the car window, dimissing the subject.

Get-Some Boy

Ok, before you start panicking-obviously nothing bad ever happened between me and this boy. I'm still happily VL, thankyou. This nickname, in fact, came from my roommates. They bestowed the title on the boy when he made a habit of locating me whenever we went to the cafeteria (still in my first semester, when I didn't have a kitchen and was forced to go to the cafeteria for nearly every meal) and making absurdly flirtatious and often strange comments, following me around as I gathered my meal from the salad bars. Then inviting me to sit with him or following me to sit among my flock of dorm friends and roommates. These dorm friends and roommates made a bit of a fashion of saying 'Get Some!' whenever anyone we knew was even talking to a member of the opposite sex, often loudly, racously and obnoxiously. Embarrassing the target caught convorting to horrifying degree's. Because they had to say it about him at least once a day however, he earned the title as his own specific epithet within a matter of weeks.
The sad part of this story is that I was simply not interested in him. He was cute, and sweet, a band geek to the core, but just not my type. Ok fine, I will admit it. I could talk circles around him, knew he didn't understand a word and yet he bobbed his head like some kind of cockatu and it drove me crazy.
I told my roommates that I did not want to date him, and to prevent him asking if they could sense it was about to happen, please. They succeeded wildly. Yes, I mean wildly. The poor kid was cut off in the middle of sentences, headed off at corners, goaded into arguments and interrupted with countless 'emergencies'.
Poor guy, he never stood a chance. This is when I first learned that using the roommates as backup was a last-resort, emergency sort of action. Not a reflex or precaution.

The Cafeteria god

I think as freshman we all manage to find some sort of BMOC and crush on him desperately for at least our first few weeks (months in my case). Mine was a boy (or man, whatever) who sat accross from me in the cafeteria, every day that first semester. I know, it's truly terrible that with the Eager Beaver expressing interest at every turn, and Get-Some boy sitting there by my side, I had eyes only for the Cafeteria god.
You who know me well know of my sad obsession with mythology and fairy tales, and my particular attraction to the beautiful roman gods. This is exactly what the boy encapsulated for me. Tall, with gold skin, black curly hair and exquisite brown eyes, he was perfection. I was lost. Taken in by the face of a man I had never even spoken to.

And never would. Because the world is a cruel place, I was born a shy creature. Not a shy spirit, as most my friends will loudly protest, but one of those people who is shy of those they have not met before, particularly if I like them. Therefore, I never worked up the courage to actually go and talk to the boy.
We had one of those eye affairs. Do not laugh at me and roll your eyes. I know you know what I'm talking about. I know you've done it too. Staring at each other across the room, like lovers trapped on either side of the looking glass. Catching each others eyes and looking away in embarassment, then looking back to see if the other is still looking at you. Communicating with your eyes an enchantment you cannot yet put into words.
But as all not-quite-good things, it came to an end. That winter I moved into an apartment, and had no need of going back to the expensive cafeteria at all. I never saw the Cafeteria god again.

The Ex-Roommate's Crush

That first semester, my roommate had a crush. A boy we invited to hang out with us all the time, he joined us for apartment dinners and nights out, homework parties, the works. But we all knew, he was hers. And frankly, none of us were particularly interested anyways.
The next semester, all of my dorm roommates left. The were summer-fall track, and I was fall-winter. I was alone again, and I HATED it. My new roommates were nice, and I thought in time we would become friends, but I wished I had some connection to the past and my loud, hilarious, energetic roommates from before. These new ones were just so quiet.
Then one day I walked into history class and there he was, my old roommate's crush. I plopped myself down beside him with a smile and we picked up the teasing friendship we'd all shared before. I didn't foresee a problem with the fact that it was just the two of us now, we'd been a part of the same silly group and I was sure our friendship could continue just the way it had last semester.
Then one day it came up as we were discussing our own histories in history class, rather than the history of America as we should have been. The 'hypothetical situation' was his method of attack.
"Say you were to date a black guy," he began smoothly, "it could even be, uh (he looks around as though trying to find another black man-not likely, there were maybe about 10 in the University total)... me. What would you think of that? Would your parents be alright with it?"
"Oh, my parents would be fine with anyone if I was in love with them," I watched his eyes twinkle, "but that wouldn't be your problem anyways. Your road blocker would be the fact that my old roommate was-and may still be-in love with you." I felt fine saying it, the fact had been openly known to him and our entire group first semester.
"Oh? Why on earth should that be a problem?" He really looks confused.
"It would be breaking a sacred bond of trust! Sisters, girlfriends, roommates, we don't take off with each other's's like, against the laws of feminism!" I quoted Mean Girls to him, joking around sarcastically the way we always did.
He didn't laugh. "She's not here though. It's not like she can do anything to you. Why shouldn't you be able to date whoever you want?"
I began to sense that he was a little more serious about this than I had suspected. "Er...just because she's not here doesn't mean she wouldn't know. I know it's like a foreign concept to you but girls actually stay in touch, you know?"
"So just don't tell her."
"That's not how it works. Even if I didn't somebody would, and then I'd be in even bigger trouble."
"Why should you have to tell anybody? Aren't they all gone anyways?"
Oh gosh. Now I am in a pickle. He is serious about this. And persistent. What do I do?! I don't want to offend one of the only friends here I have right now!
"It's just against my own personal morals ok?"
Class began and for that day I was safe. For the next few weeks he spent the free time we had in class trying to convince me that it was no sin or betrayal if I wanted to date him. I could never quite figure out how to tell him that I really just didn't.
Finally, it was coming up on Valentine's Day...and the Sweethearts Ball. I had a very serious crush on the Dreamy Premi by now (described below) and thought that if I let it slip that I might be going to the dance with him, my ex-roommate's crush would avoid the subject altogether.
Yeah, like I should be blessed with such luck.
It was a few days before the ball when he broached the subject again.
"So has your friend from your class that you like asked you to the dance yet?"
"Oh, oh no actually...he doesn't, um, date."
"Oh really? I'm sorry. Well, since you don't have a date, maybe you'd like to go with me? Just as friends, like..." the last part was added at my look of exasperation.
I was trapped. There was officially no way I could get out of this without offending him, and so I agreed.
I must now confess to using one of the most hideous, awful, and manipulative tricks a girl knows to avoid a date. It takes a little truth, a little heartache, some tears and a LOT of exaggeration. Hilariously enough, it happened in the gardens.
"I need to talk to you...about the dance." I began slowly, having already evinced a horrible mood and depression all through class. I can hear him stop breathing.
"It's just I don't have a dress, I'm completely broke...I, I just..." This is where I start to cry a little bit and stop walking as though extremely agitated. He stops and looks at me concernedly.
"Kristi, what's really wrong?" He asks in that deep philosophical voice they use when they are being the 'man', you know the one. When they are trying to take care of you, acting like they understand the inner workings of your psyche, like they are the only one in the universe that can possibly delve deep enough to find what is truly wrong with you. Because as we all know, a woman will never just say the truth and tell you what's hurting her, it's something you have to work at.
"At home," my voice breaks, "there's just problems in my family and my best friend is in a lot of pain and I just feel...(sob) like...(sob) I ...should be...(sob with wail) hooome."
Now I've scared him. A tear or two most guys can handle, but break down in full-blown sobs with gushing tears and you will induce a panic like no other.
"I just don't think...I don't feel it's right...I wouldn't be able to enjoy a dance at all right now...I can barely handle being a group of people at all." I cry silently and wait for his answer.
"Oh, it's ok Kristi...I understand if you don't wanna be around a ton of people. Hey, maybe I can get us a pizza and we can watch a movie at one of our apartments or something."
Opps. I guess I did kind of open myself up for that one. I'm going to have to hurt him a little bit. He leaves me no other choice.
"Actually I think...I think I just need to be alone for a while...I'm sorry."
The head droops, the eyes avoid mine, the voice even quavers a little bit as he says, "Oh, I guess thats...thats fine...I'll see you next week then..."
I don't see him next week. As a matter of fact, he quit coming to class altogether. He didn't answer my calls or texts and the one time I ran into him on campus he said, "Oh ya, hey I dropped that class..." and hurried off with some excuse.
Seriously? Seriously! What is it about me that sends guys cowering for the hills?! I can't even manage to keep a guy as a friend for more than a few months. Sheesh.

The History Hangover

This poor sap was in that same history class in which my ex-roommate's crush had held the infamous debate's about the conditions of dating. This guy had constantly jumped in the middle of them and been the crush's life line.
After the crush was gone however, it seems I became fair game.
"So, you and --crush-- aren't going out or anything now are ya? I assume he woulda stayed in the class if you were...?"
"Um, no, no we're definitely not." I try not to talk to this guy too often and usually sit in between the two other girls that are in our group. They are sadly absent this day. Don't be too harsh in judging me please, after all he had helped to destroy what friendship with the crush I had tried to maintain. And to be frank, he looked a little like golem from LOTR and scared the living crap out of me. Even had the voice down pat.
"So are you free?"
"Um, well I mean I guess but I'm really trying to focus on my schoolwork righ-"
He cuts me off. "Cuz I'd love-"
Now I cut him off. "NOW so I don't actually want to date anyone."
"Ah. Huh."
He is not deterred. He spent most of the rest of the semester in that class trying to convince me to date him. I could be as rude as you like, ignore him completely, and he would somehow see it as a sign of encouragement. I assume it ended only because I never saw him again after that semester. I don't particularly mind actually. Sorry.

The Dreamy Premi

For those of you who have read my story, this is the inspiration for Pierre. The golden skin with happy freckles, curling honey hair and deep green-gold eyes that can hold you in a spell forever. Yeah, not kidding. I was head-over-heels before I'd even spoken to him.
We were in a humanities class together, and of all the beautiful girls he could have chosen to sit next to in that class (trust me, all of them were noticing him) he came and sat next to me. You probably could have actually heard me sigh. Kind of pathetic really, but I couldn't help myself.
I introduced myself and we hit it off immediately. It was usually hard to concentrate in that class because we talked straight through it. However, since we had the highest grades in it and always knew the answers ahead of time (product of trying to impress each other or get everything done ahead of time in anticipation of not being able to do anything when we were together? I'm not sure) the professor really just ignored it. The Dreamy Premi had the most tantalizing habit of putting his head so close to my ear when he wanted to whisper a comment or answer to me that I could feel the heat of his breath all the way down my collar. Then I'd turn my head to whisper or look at him in response and he wouldnt move his and I'd be staring right into those never ending green eyes and I'd completely forget what I was thinking. It drove me CRAZY. He'd always move my hair, be brushing my arm or inadvertently leaning his knee against mine. In short, this boy knew how to tease.
And for all of that you would think, Player. But no, not him. He had to have the perfect personality too. Extremely sweet, especially to the mentally challenged girl who sat with us, and completely focused, he never spoke to a soul other than myself and that girl the whole semester. I held the highest grade for the class but he kept a percent or two behind me the whole way. He was smart. He knew how to study. I could talk to him for hours and never get bored.
I was falling fast, I knew I had to find a flaw or I'd be a goner. I could find none. The guy was perfect. Absolutely gloriously perfect.
And then one day we were discussing relationships and I asked if he was dating anyone now and he said, "No," my heart flew through the roof, "I don't want to date anyone until I get back from my mission, it would just be too much heartbreak to leave someone behind."
Crack. Shatter. Splint. Speaking of heart break.
The "Comforter"

Of all the guys I dated at BYUI, this is the one I hold the fondest memories of. Not because I was attatched to him, or even had any sort of crush on him really, but because of what he did for me. This is still my second semester and I was horribly lonely because now I had lost my friend in the ex-roommate's crush and was depressed that I seemed to chase all my guy friends away.
As much as it is talked about in sunday school lessons, sacrament meeting talks and every other kind of spiritual lesson we are given throughout our lives, it is surprising how few people have the courage to try to comfort someone who is visibly upset or depressed. Or even notice them actually.
This guy was one of those outstanding people who did though. He started talking to me and tried to cheer me up at ward functions, then began accompanying me to stadium singing (hundreds of students from BYUI go to the football stadium on sunday evenings and sing hymns together for half an hour) then going on walks, then out to meals and game nights with other couples. He was a fantastic friend and introduced me to many very interesting people.
Then one day I got a horrible phone call from my best friend at home. She told me that the boy that had been her date when we doubled at prom senior year had committed suicide. I took it pretty hard. I haven't ever known someone my age who purposely disposed of themselves, or someone in their right mind. I was sure there was no hope for him and I was horrible depressed. The comforter saw me on campus a few hours after this phone call and he sat with me and let me cry for awhile, then taught me everything he knew about life after death and the promise of eternal families in helping people and the condition of those who take their own lives. He was an immense help and I felt so much better after that talk. I will be forever grateful to him.
We stayed friends for the rest of the semester but lost contact afterwards. I ran into him my last semester and he told me was engaged to get married a week after the semester ended. I was very happy for him, I hope she is as wonderful a girl as he deserves.

The Haunter

Alright, here it is. The story you've all been waiting for. THIS is the true end to my dating random gentlemen. THIS is the experience that scared me beyond all experiences and made me determined to avoid dating until I was safe and could leave on my mission.
I met the Haunter in my third semester, after a long summer break of planning my sister's wedding, in Mandarin Chinese class. We were both partnerless coming in (turns out most people like to take Chinese with a friend or roommate-go figure) and so got paired up together automatically. Other than the fact that he had a drastically receding hairline, wore belts with studs on them with sweatshirts that favored skulls, and didn't seem to be able to stop smiling, he seemed reasonably normal to me. I should have known better than to think that I would ever be paired up with a relatively normal person.
We held our practice sessions in the library in a little alcove where we could hear each other. Thinking about it now, I guess I can see why he thought this was romantic. But it never occured to me then. It didn't even occur to me that he was interested actually. Even when he asked me out after our third practice session (after walking me home as he usually did) it simply did not enter into my oblivious mind. The last time I'd dated someone was the comforter after all, and we'd ended up just being friends. We never really even had any intense moments...(ok there was one, when he was trying to cuddle with me while watching a movie in his apartment and kept putting his arm around me and playing with my hair-but his plan was foiled by the fact that the movie- Legend - made me laugh hysterically instead of making me scared and so every time I laughed I could scoot away from him) and so I wasn't really on the 'find-a-mate' sort of mind track.
For our first date (can I just add that I had to drive because I had a car and he did not...gentlemen, this is just not attractive to a girl who does not already know you and like you. If you are trying to impress a girl and you don't have a car, try going somewhere close and WALKING-then if we are cold you can give us a jacket, wrap arms around us etc, we think that you are more physically active, we have a long time just to talk and it really just adds to the whole experience of the date. Honestly.) he decided that we were going to the Haunted Shack which is actually a pretty awesome haunted house out in the country near Rexburg. It was a brilliant plan. I was terrified. I had to hold on to someone or I was going to get hopelessly terrified and have an anxiety attack, and he was really my only option. The problem was-he didn't want to let go. He held my hand for the duration of the haunted house and out to the car. Fortunately, I needed it back to drive.
"So do you want dinner?" he asks.
"Sure. What did you have in mind?"
"Actually," he says hesitantly, "I thought I'd let you pick. Only, it can't be very expensive cuz I'm kinda broke. In fact, it can't be much more than a hamburger and fries."
Ok, can we just analyze the many problems with saying this to a girl you are trying to impress, particularly on a first date?
#1 Usually, we don't want to pick. If you are worried about us liking dinner, plan ahead and figure out what kind of food we like. Otherwise, we will figure out something to eat wherever you take us-it's much more attractive for you to be decisive, we hate being surpised with the sudden question 'what do you want'. My particular favorite lines from P.S. I Love You: q: 'What do you people (women) want?!" a: "I'll tell you, but it's a sacred, sacred secret. You have to swear not to tell. Alright, are you ready? WE HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA."
#2 'cus I'm kinda broke' ?!?!?! Hello! Not brilliant. Even if you are trying to find a girl who likes you for you and not your wallet, telling her your flat broke and can't even afford to take her to a nice dinner, is just stupid. Men are the providers, we DEPEND on them, esp those of us who someday want to be mormon housewives. We do actually need to know that you will be able to do this.
#3 'a hamburger and fries.' Nice. So you're a fastfood kinda guy huh? Ok, really this isn't going to get you in trouble with every girl you try to date. But you might want to try figuring out whether she is vegetarian, or has eating disorders before you suggest such a heinous thing. Also-as a general rule-fastfood is just not cute. Make a meal together-it's just as cheap, and it will show her a side of you she'll really like-one that's comfortable in the kitchen.
Alright, we'll move on now. Obviously, I didn't go for the fastfood thing.
"Well, I'm not too hungry," I replied, "how about we just go get some ice cream?"
So we stop at Cold Stones.
"Ok, please don't get anything more than a 'like it'." Says the Haunter. I'm not kidding you.
"Alright. I normally just get a little kiddy bowl because I can't finish anything more, so that's fine." I will be nothing if not polite on a date. Making him feel foolish would just be rude right? Ha.
"Oh good." He sighs it with relief. I could have smacked him. Honestly! Is he trying to make me feel fat, greedy or beastly? Because he's doing a pretty good job of all three here. Not how I want to feel on a date. No siree. Not at all.
We eat our ice cream and he tells me about his mission. Which he hated. Which was only 2 hours away from his home. Which he blamed every other person available for his misery in. Also, very not impressive.
Next, we go to his apartment to watch a movie.
"My roommates should be there with us." He says. Ok, well then I think that's fine.
We get there and walk into the dark apartment and there are NO roommates. None.
"Well, I think they'll get here in just a little while, so we'll be ok." says the Haunter.
Uh huh. He turns on some Japanese film with lots of violence that I can't understand a word of and sits closer to me than any male not married to me has any right to be. I scoot into the arm of the couch and he moves closer. So I move to the edge of the seat, poised for flight. I can feel him staring at me and so I pretend total fascination in the movie and do not glance at him once.
Finally, the movie ends. We have been sitting in the dark ALONE the whole time. I stand up very quickly.
"Have you ever dated anyone very seriously?" He asks abrubptly. Uh, rude.
"Um, I don't date very seriously here at all actually. I don't know why, something about concentrating on my studies." I'm being ironic, and trying to make a joke, but he just doesn't see it. His eyes get that look, you know, the glowing one. The one that makes them look like they are about to devour your soul with happiness. Gulp.
"I can fix that." He says. Oh my GOSH. This guy just can not be serious! I just laugh lightly and walk out the door to the car. He follows. Apparently he plans to go to my place and walk home again from there. Cuz the car is mine.
I drive to my place, and he invites himself in. We seriously stand in my living room talking about pretty much nothing for about 2 and a half hours until curfew. There are many awkward silences, which I imagine he must have taken for romantic tension.
Then, as I mention that it's time to say good bye and turn to him, I recognize that terrifying look in his eyes and I realize what's coming. He thinks that after all of that he is going to kiss me. Good grief.
I turn around about as fast as I can to head for the door and kick him out, and his head SMACKS into the back of mine. Ouch. Seriously? Did that really just happen to me?
I choose not to acknowledge it. I walk with cherry red cheeks to the door and open it for him.
"Thanks," say I, "the haunted house was really awesome." I really am not even looking at him as I say this.
"So can we go out again next weekend?"
"Uh..." My roommates are walking in, the pressure is on here, "maybe. Sure, I guess, whatever." I shut the door and he walks away. My roommates burst into a fit of giggles.
"Are you really going to go out with him?" One asks.
"I don't know! He's my partner!!! I guess I have to...what do I do?" Complete panic has commenced.
This is where emergency action becomes appropriate. Because all week long, after every practice, he comes to my apartment, lets himself in and talks my ear off for at least three hours til my fun and crazy red headed roommate comes and scares him away. I could learn much from her.
Together, my roommates and I hatch a plan. Another of my roommate's and her boyfriend agree to accompany me on this next date and I do not give the Haunter a chance to change the plans. Then the red headed roommate (who the Haunter has taken an extreme disliking to) decides to come along solo. I will love her forever for this.

Basically, I ignore him for the whole date. But he doesn't stop trying. We go to a burger shop out in the middle of no where with giant burgers, which I just consider extremely ironic. He does actually pay for my meal but I brought money just in case cuz I thought perhaps it would be too expensive. Then we all go home and need to do different things so I tell him that I'm going to have to take him home. I tell them that I am sure I will get lost (if you know me, you know I can get lost in my own neighborhood for hours, so the story was plausible) and ask my red headed roommate to come with me. It takes a kick from our other roommate for her to get it but she does understand and the three of us set off to take him home. The blessed angel pops her head out of the back seat in between me and the Haunter and talks the whole time. When we arrive he gets out with a glare and disappears into the apartment buildings.
She climbs immediately into the front seat.
"Do you think it worked?" she asks.
"Oh I'm sure. Did you see his face when he got out of the car?" I answer laughing. I am confident I have frightened the guy away permanently. I now have a new partner (wonderfully female) in my chinese class and I think I can escape gracefully.
No Such Luck.
The next monday in class he asks me out again. At least I am ready with an excuse this time.
"I'm going to be out of town, sorry." I say.
"No problem," says he, "there's always next week."
The Haunter asks me out every single monday for the next two months. Finally, I think he gets the hint. He never smiles again. He moves to the other side of the class room and GLARES with every ounce of hatred in his body throughout every class period. Then, he stops coming to class altogether.
Great. Another one. Can I just tell you how many guys have stopped coming to classes because of me throughout my life? ...Never mind. You don't want to know. It depresses even me.
How it happened I just do not know because he had to have failed the first one because he not only stopped coming to class but before that had stopped studying (when we were partners I had to feed him most his lines anyways) and had failed at least 4 performances, so there's no way he passed the class, but he showed up in 102 the next semester. And the glaring continued. Then he started failing performances again. Then he stopped coming. Is anyone else a magnet for these strange and crazy men or do I manage to keep them away from the rest of you?


After the Haunter I decided I was done. That's it. That is the end. I did not date a single person my last semester and turned down every request. Didn't even tell anyone about them. I don't think I'll date again til after my mission thankyou.


branchedout said...

I love your writing! I really think you should look into English as a major. Honestly girl!!!!!!!!

KayKay :D said...

LOL thanks ;) I was thinking of double majoring actually...I just love both too much to decide

Atkinsons in the Couv said...

Wow! The more things change, the more they stay the same. Over 20 years later, and BYU schools have so many of the same types running around!
Sorry, but attracting the geeks, freaks, and wierdos comes from my side of the family. Don't give up completely though, we did each find a good one to actually marry!

Bri... only she said...

I read a quote today, but can't find it again, that I thought might convince you (in particular) that English trumps even history as a major.

To paraphrase, Literature allows us to examine and discuss a human character fully, though unlike gossip, it excludes names.

See, there you are. You can write gossip about people, slander their names, drag their opinions and faults through the mud, "eviscerate them in fiction", and still remain a faultless gossip because you did not use their real name. :)It's even more guiltless than history and more immediate because you're writing about what you know, not someone you wont meet until the next life.

eh, eh?

Dave in the Couv said...


Wow, I finally read the whole post tonight. It sounds like your analysis of the dates and crushes is spot on. It also sounds like you were dating boys, and I'm a little worried what will happen when you finally meet a real man -- meaning one that is not a premie, one that has a serious career plan, one that loved his mission, and one that actually has the courage to ask you out and pay for the date, one that is interested in finding out about you, and your dreams, wishes, and aspirations. What I'm worried about is that it will be such a refreshing breath of fresh air after these experiences that you will rush in too fast and scare him away (opposite of current behavior). I think the idea of waiting until after your mission is a little extreme, but I can understand why you feel that way. And remember, if you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.