This post is dedicated to Breelyn, who is my faithful stalker of blog, Twitter, and Facebook. Really, what we need to do is exchange phone numbers so we can text all the time too!
So remember how I was gonna go out with this kid on Saturday? Didn't happen. I was running and he was roasting a pig at the BYU tailgate party. (He's Tongan and outweighs me by 200 pounds). It got too late and he couldn't get away, so we just talked on the phone for a few minutes, and I said, "Maybe on Sunday."
Sunday came around. Turned off my phone for church and forgot to turn it back on and ended up taking a three hour nap. Then he called me and I was like, "I'm sorry, but I really just want to spend time with my family." We watched Oklahoma and it was wonderful.
So we finally made it happen last night. I went to work, got home, went for a run, and told him to pick me up at 8. He calls me at 8:15 and says his wallet is in his backpack, which is in his brother's car, which is currently in Salt Lake. I crack up hysterically on the inside and say, "That's okay, I can treat." After which he says, "Oh, and I won't be eating with you because we football players aren't allowed to eat after four." (Please bear in mind that his dialect is much worse, and I'm paraphrasing and cleaning up the grammar for maximum comprehension.) Then I realized I would be eating by myself and paying for it.
But I was starving after those miles and didn't care, so I was like, "Okay, be here at 8." He shows up at ten minutes too. I'm not even dressed, so he waits in the car because he doesn't want to come to the door. So I finally get out the door and I get in the car, which he doesn't get out of to open my door, we head to the International House of Pancakes (where he does open the doors--I think he has just not been raised on the etiquette I expect) where I know they have an omelette of exactly 420 calories which is what I have left for the day anyway. So it's not all bad when someone tells you that they can't eat cos they're on an eating plan and you have to pay. All it means is that YOU get to pick AND you don't have to feel silly when you order off the healthy menu.
The waitress was perplexed at my solitary menu, and asked, "Why is she eating alone?" When he explained that he was on the BYU football team, she gave a little cheer and high-fived him. She then turns to me, and I said, "Uh-uh. Nope. I'm an Aggie. I like you both as people, but there will be no high-fives or love from me shown for that team." They were very kind and obliging, which I appreciated. It would've gone against everything I believed to do other than I did.
We talked for about an hour about our families and growing up. He has had a HARD life. Harder than most. Terrible things have happened. He told me bluntly that he thought I was cute and he was surprised that I actually gave him my number and asked me why I did. I told him I like meeting new people and making new friends. I guess people aren't very trusting and friendly outside of Utah. Haha. Or they're just smarter than I am. Probably the latter.
He asked me what sorts of guys I go for and I decided to be blunt as well. Honesty is the best policy, right? I said, "I'm a nerdy girl. I'm a homebody. I read books and I write sometimes, and I like movies and TV shows. Guys like me are the sorts of people I usually like to go out with." (Not that I go out that much.) I think that took the wind out of his sails a bit, "Oh man, I'm not that guy!" but he might as well know the truth. He told me I didn't LOOK like a geek.
"Well, what do you think I look like?"
"A normal person." Dear confused people of the world and the interwebs, nerds are normal people who just tend to get excited about things that most others would find boring. And you heard it from a cool, Cali Polynesian--I make nerdy look "cute" and "bomb."
Around this point, it had been an conversation was winding down and I was getting bored (he's very nice, but he's not an intellectual), so as to end the night on as high a point as possible, I decided to use my emergency get-out free card: my sick sister. I told him I needed to get home and help take care of my niece, so we headed out. Frankly, I think first hangouts/dates/whatevers shouldn't last longer than that anyway. Fourteen hour torture sessions should be reserved for those who really, really like each other already.
Just before we turned at my house, he said, "I know you go for guys that are a lot like you, but I really do like you and want to get to know you better. It doesn't have to be anything big, and it's cool if you just want to be friends, but I do want to get to know you better."
And there it was!! An out! Relief! A chance to be nice without hurting anybody's feelings!
So I told him that I was fine with that--that we can give it a couple tries and see how it goes (even though I already know that it won't go anywhere)--but at least now, I can honestly be friendly without worrying about it giving him the wrong idea, and I know he won't be offended when I tell him I just want to be friends. HURRAY.
A successful night. Except for the fact that I had to pay and eat myself, open my own doors, and walk myself to and from my house. HAHAHA.
Moral of the story: This wasn't a date. Or was it?
