Do you know what never gets old? My awful dating life.
I just realized that I hadn't blogged about one of my dates from the summer. And I have ample time this morning to fill you in on this story.
I went on a date with a boy from high school. He's a year older than me and we had physics together my junior year. I hadn't seen him since then either. He reconnected with on Facebook and Instagram and finally mustered up some courage and asked me out. I said yes. Homeboy asked if I wanted to ride on his motorcycle to our destination, and I've ridden on motorcycles before and loved it, so I said yes!
Here comes the first problem: HE had ME to drive to his house in order to ride the motorcycle. I said I would (I also like an easy escape if things turn south). So I arrive at his house and he's workin' on the bike and trying to get some speaker system to work in the helmets. As an aside, before our actual date he asked me to bring ear buds, I thought he meant something to muffle the noise of the motorcycle, but this ain't my first rodeo so I didn't bring any. I was dressed all cute and had my hair done nicely, ready to have a fun night. Fun is not exactly what followed. What happened is this: he handed me a leather jacket (it's the middle of July and definitely at 95+ that day) and a helmet, which I gladly wore. The jacket was for protection just in case we had any accidents. Umm, what? Yeah, accidents. So was the helmet, I guess. He then asks if I brought the ear buds and I said no, I didn't need them and he said yes you do they're for our speaker system in the helmets. He found an extra pair and plugged in our ear buds to the microphone type thing so we could test them out. It didn't work. Well, it did. But it was really muffled so I couldn't hear anything. He was trying to tell me the rules of riding. I couldn't understand a thing he was saying so I said I'm taking my helmet off so I can hear what you're telling me.
The rules of riding with him are:
1. Don't hold on to me.
2. Lean into the direction of the bike when turning.
3. When coming to a stop, squeeze your legs behind me so you don't ram me up the bike.
4. Don't make me ram into the middle of the bike.
Really crappy rules, huh? This kids bike is like the bullets bike younger brother who still hasn't figured anything out. Have you ever tried to ride with two people on a bullet bike on the freeway, not holding on, squeezing your legs? Just visualize that awful mess for a minute. Yeah, it's as bad as it sounds.
We get onto the freeway and he tries to make conversation with me through the helmet speaker things and I can't understand him. I'm trying so hard but I couldn't. So I told him that I couldn't understand and we ride all the way up to the natural history museum by the U in silence. The whole time I was thinking, shiz. What if we fall of this thing? I don't think I can do this. I'd grab onto him and he'd wiggle away from me. Or try and shake me off. It was weird.
We finally reach the museum and I take of the leather jacket and I'm sweating buckets. It's hot! I no longer look cute. My hair is a hot mess, I'm sopping wet, and now we have to try and make chit chat. At the museum he hands the ticket person his military ID, and says to me, yeah we went here because it's free for me. I'm thinking, wow. Awesome. So throughout the experience of the museum, I'd try and make light chit chat, but nothing. He wouldn't engage with me. He'd ask about Sarah or the fam and I'd start responding and he'd say, well, anyway....
Right before we headed home, he made two phone calls: one to his friend who had a birthday, one to his other group of friends saying he just was doing something right now but he'd be able to make the party at 9. Ugh! We get on the motorcycle, with no holding, and only leg squeezing allowed we get on the freeway. Right about now my anxiety sets in. What if we crash? We if I fall off the back? What's going to happen? I'm pretty sure he turned off our headset things so to keep myself distracted I started singing hymns and primary songs. It worked. We made it home. I say see ya later! And his response is, I hope I don't make the blog (he knew that I blog about bad dates). I was thinking, you're making it, don't worry.
Anyway, I don't hear from him for a few weeks. The next time I do, he asks if I had written on the blog yet. I said no. He then says, hey you know you're paralyzed friend, I think I have a crush on her. Could you set me up?
'nuff said, right?
I'm at the point where dates are becoming another thing for me to blog about. They're bad. They're funny. And everyone can enjoy my pain. But at least I made it out alive with this one. :)