Jami's How Not to Date Guide, Part 2

if you didn't read part one, you can find it here.

Worst First Dates Countdown continues with . . . .

Number 2 - Hi, Nice to Meet You and Your Underwear I'm in college. I've got a date with a nice guy who is, stay with me here, the friend of a friend's roommate. I had a new roommate, due to a previous roommate moving out unexpectedly. So she's still sort of unpacking, we're getting to know each other and my date arrives. I don't remember why he came up to my room, but here's what I remember: my date is sitting on my bed and my roommate starts SHOWING HIM HER LINGERIE. I swear to you, I am not making this up. I couldn't make this up. She is putting them into a dresser drawer, holding up each one to him and giving a little explanation "these are crotchless panties - see? This is a bustier, it's called a demi-cup because it doesn't cover the whole boob . . . Here's a teddy. This one's my favorite, it's nipple-less and crotchless. This one is just a regular one. My mom bought it for me" (still not kidding). The date got better, dinner, a nice romantic walk, etc. But I think we never got over the shock of seeing all her naughty-wear. I went out with him a couple more times, and each time he mentioned my roommate's under-things. So, goodbye then. Also, the roommate didn't last. Number 1 - There Are Too Many Reasons This Went Wrong to Come Up with a Clever Title. He was a nice, shy guy in my youth group. Let's call him Bob. One night in May, he was giving me a lift home from church and, attempting to make conversation, I say "So, are you going to prom?" He tells me that he doesn't really know any girls at his school. Being new to the Youth Group, I assume he's also new to the area. That's rough, who do you ask to prom when you haven't really made friends yet? I suggest he asks someone from Youth Group. He says something along the lines of "do you think anyone would be interested?" I assure him that if he asks someone, she will probably be glad to go. A few days later, my mom asks me why I haven't told her I'm going to prom with Bob. I say that I didn't know I was, or I'd have told her. Apparently, he thought that was him asking me, and me accepting. So, okay. I'm going to prom. A few days before prom, I call to find out when I am being picked up. He says "Between 6 and 7:30." Hmm, gonna need you to narrow that one down a little. Kind of a big window there. Don't want to have to sit in my get-up for an hour and a half, ya know? He settles on between 7 and 7:30. Okay, that's doable. Except, of course, he shows up at 6:40. Sigh. His mother had come along - shades of date 5 right? - because she wanted to get pictures and knew my parents anyway. He produces a wrist corsage the size of a small shrubbery, which about covers my entire forearm. But it's pretty. He attempts putting on his matching boutonniere, can't do it, and says "Mommy, can you do it?" This is followed by approximately 100 pictures during which he apparently couldn't decide the appropriate thing to do with his arm (put it around me? leave it at his side?) so his hand is sticking out straight from behind my hip. He'd put his arm behind me, but was not actually touching me. Didn't know that until I saw the pictures. We get into his car, me in my voluminous ball gown and he looks into my eyes and says "Lift your skirt, would you?" Me: "WHAT????" Him: "Your dress is on the gear shift." Oh. Okey-doke then. And we're off. We met up with a few other couples (a friend of mine, her date and two of their couple-friends), and headed out to dinner. Along the way he points out a dead deer on the side of the road and then misses the turn and almost gives me a concussion cutting the wheel so hard that we about spin out. Only my heavily-sprayed 80's hair saved me. At the restaurant, he makes the following faux pas:

1. He suggests it might be romantic to speak in German all night (he'd completed German 6, I had just finished German 2.) This might be romantic indeed, if "That is my pen" and "I enjoy playing soccer" are romantic statements.
2. It comes out that he's intimated, but not actually said that I am a college freshman, not a high school one. This leads to a confusing conversation about my "major" until my other friend explains that I go to a different local high school. Bob turns pink.
3. Bob gets the bill and says, loud enough for me to hear it "Geez, I could buy a Volkswagen for this". Seriously, I didn't even have an appetizer or dessert!!!

We head on over to the prom, Bob isn't sure where it is. We get lost, park in a parking garage about 6 blocks from the building, which isn't too bad, unless you're in a giant floofy dress and new high heels. Finally, we arrive.

Bob and I begin to dance, and I use this term loosely. I don't generally criticize poor dancing. Mostly, I think enthusiasm makes up for lack of skill. Bob did show enthusiasm. And a serious lack of rhythm. I'd have to say a complete lack of understanding that there is such a thing as rhythm. And I'm trying to be nice here. It was, let's just say, not good.

After a few random spastic motions, I suggest we mingle. I find a few friends. I introduce him to the people I know, none of them recognize him. I ask "How long have you gone here?" "Since kindergarten." Oh. Remember, I thought he was new here? Not so much.

Bob discovers the buffet table, and even though it's been just over an hour since our Volkswagen-costing meal and he makes a sandwich that would make Dagwood proud, and scarfs it down. Which is fine, because I'm afraid he's going to start dancing again soon.

Eventually we leave. Everyone we came with is going back to my friend's house for a slumber party (girls upstairs, boys downstairs, no hanky-panky). Of course, no one else parked in the garage we did, so they go one way, we go the other, and walk, and walk, and walk, until Bob admits - he's not sure where we parked. We find a garage that "looks right", and Bob hits the elevator button. I am looking at the directory of the garage (floor 1 -yellow and red, floor 2 - blue and green , etc.) when I hear the elevator ding. I turn around to see it CLOSING and he yells "I'll find the car and be right down." Now I'm a young teen, alone, in downtown Pittsburgh, at 3am in a giant dress and painful shoes.

Luckily, one of the other couples is passing by and sees me standing there alone. They pull over and wait for Bob to return, almost a 1/2 hour later!! Without the car. Because it's the wrong garage. The guy in the other car thinks he knows which one it is, and drives us there, waits with me again while Bob locates the car. And we're off, again.

At the house, we change into modest jammies and since it's only 4 am, let's watch a movie, right? Our hostess decides on Casablanca, pops it in and we're sort of drowsing, watching it when Bob starts to analyze it for historical accuracy. After several people try to politely ask him to shut up, the hostess turns it off and announces that everyone's going to bed.

In the middle of the night, the very, very, very large girl sleeping on the floor next to me rolls over on my wrist shrub and totally flattens it. It looked like a green dinner plate. I laughed so hard I cried, and she thought I was upset, until I assured her that it was the best part of the prom.

At breakfast, everyone is deciding what we should do - local theme park? Go up to the lake? Bob suggests - Natural History Museum. I announce that I have to be home in an hour. And that's the date.