For real? My first date.

I had a crush on a boy in high school for WAY too long. Nice enough guy, just a little nerdy. The main attraction you ask? He was basically the only boy taller than me and he was Mormon. Two very important qualifications. He had a brother that was my older sisters age, this came in handy for a double date.

My nephew Micah had his first date this last weekend, ahh – homecoming. Which stirred up some very, not so fond memories of my first date. Let me take you back…

The year was 1990. I turned sixteen that summer, and was finally allowed to date. I’m not sure why there is all this talk of dating at 16. It’s kind of rude to get the hopes up of all sixteen year old girls around the Mormon world. I mean, really, what are the chances that the flood gates are going to open up here? Really? Pretty much none.

Who wouldn't want to date these beauties?

At any rate, I really had a crush on the tall boy. He and his brother were very gainfully employed at a fine establishment called…Skippers!! Yes, that’s right. Greasy, stinky, pretty low quality fish and chips. Knowing these boys had an income, Mindy and I drove right down there shortly after my birthday. Let me say, now that I am older, I realize there were plenty of boys who would have gone out with me – if even just for fun. Why I liked the tall boy, I’ll never know. So we go into Skippers on this hot, 70 degree evening in Seattle. They are both working and somehow Mindy convinces them to take us both out on a date that weekend. Oh, the excitement. I should have known when the tall boys, shorty brother pulled out the calculator right then and there, we where in trouble. He proceeded to calculate the cost of gas, food and a movie. Then divided it in half, so we could see what this would cost. Why we didn’t high tail it out of there, I have no idea.

Saturday night arrived, and I don’t remember a thing about the date, but these fine memories. A yellow 1970’s hatchback Toyota corolla, me and Mindy climbing in and out of the back, while both boys where in the front. I don’t know what we ate, but we did see the absolute, without a doubt, number one, worst movie of all time – Problem Child. The guys choice, of course. Movie over, them racing home to our house, wheels screeching to a stop. Bucket seat slightly moved forward so we could weasel our way out, door slamming, engine racing off as fast as they could. All we could utter was, “Thanks for th-…” Cough, cough – as we ate their dust. Wow. That was is it? That was my first date? Could it really have been that horrible? Yep.

Eventually, my dating scene improved, but not for many years to come. I had some weird ones though. Like having to sit right next to a bit of a psychopath in his pickup truck, not across the bench seat, but snuggled up at his insistence. Or the guy who asked me if I liked hairy chests, and did I think his eyes were pretty. How about the guy who, several inches shorter than me, showed me his Jurassic Park I.D. badge? This gave him the rights to “feed the animals.” (yes, he was 21 years old) There were fond ones as well though. Dancing on the side on the road, lit only by the stars. Rollerblading around Green Lake, holding hands. And, of course, in the end – all that dating paid off. Just glad I don’t have to go through that again. (knock on wood)