A good theme this weekend – well, they are all good – it’s just that the quality of my responses to the prompts are not as consistently good. Of course I seem to be implying that this post will be (or is) a good one. You be the judge! The theme, a fill-in-the blank prompt, is My First. . .
My First Date. You all of course know how very attractive and gorgeous and desirable I am, so it might come as a surprise to you that my first date occurred during the second semester of my sophomore year in college (I was 20 years old). Up until that point, I had never experienced so much as one “passionate kiss,” or sensed that anyone had any interest in me other than as a friend (I was a “good buddy” to many) or an object of derision (to more than just a few) – sometimes a combination of both.
When I dropped my “I don’t care face,” I ached at the absence of such a relationship. I felt it very deeply, because the fact that no one was attracted to me does not mean that I was not attracted to others. Lots of them. I used to pray that God would please “make” a particular boy or man fall in love with me – as I was sure I was with him. The answer was always, “No,” for which I thank God profusely! Gracious! When I think of the boys/men that I was “in love” with, I shudder at the thought that if God had said “Yes,” I might have ended up with them!
An interesting aside to my imposed-single status is that it made me especially attractive to several girls/women when in college. Apparently they thought my male-free lifestyle was by choice. Of course, since I was studying music and theater, such an assumption should have come as no surprise. I was never insulted or disgusted, (although I know for certain that my refusal of one such proposition created a lot of pain for one girl with whom I shared what, on my part at least, was a delightful platonic relationship). On the contrary, I was flattered! They were great young women, talented, fun to be with, and had my leanings been in another direction, I would have accepted their propositions eagerly.
David H. was a “younger man.” He was a freshman, and a pre-med major who auditioned for and became a member of the concert choir. He was very handsome, and friendly, and he always thought my jokes were funny and appreciated my rather “off-beat” and quirky sense of humor – making him a true rarity! I was very attracted to his manner and “clean-cut” style, and did my best on a number of occasions to make sure that I was somewhere in his general location.
David was also the object of desire for several other females in the choir (the only class he and I shared), and I was aware of a rather intense competition going on in the background. David sort of hedged his bets for a while, but to my delight, he settled on me. Admittedly, at the beginning of our romance, it took the form of “mentor/student,” (I was the admired mentor). It did move on to something much more than that, however.
I remember with crystal clarity the moment he asked me on that first date. It was to go with him to one of the concerts that was part of a subscription series offered by the University. Since we both had season tickets already, that part was “dutch treat,” but he did take me out to dinner, (driving his 1968 red, convertible Mustang – cherry condition, I might add!). I told him I would be delighted to join him, and was so inexperienced and naïve, that I was probably a bit too excited – and showed it! Up until that day, I don’t remember being more thrilled or happy. It had happened at last – and I had thought it would never happen for me.
My insecurity began to show through in full force. At the time he asked me, it was about two weeks in advance of the concert. We did not set a time for when he would be picking me up. I started to think of this as a sign that he was not as excited as I, and was giving himself an “out,” in case someone better came along. I casually asked him a couple of days later, after choir rehearsal, what time he would be coming by. He said he wasn’t sure, but he would let me know – it depended on his study and lab class schedule. I accepted his answer casually, and told him that we would talk later when he knew more. By the way, he did not know that I had never dated anyone before.
This recollection will continue tomorrow. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of the fascinating story of My First Date. At 800 words, for today this is enough. . .