We’re happy to present to you a guest post from DDDT Matters Pertaining to Single People Correspondent Ron (not sure why I’m linking there; last post is from January).
Upon graduating from BYU I moved east, eventually landing in Washington DC, where I lived and worked for three years. After I had been there for a while, I began to feel somewhat discouraged by my lack of a dating life. I rarely dated, mostly because few options existed and I didn’t click with those that did. Long gone were the days when eligible bachelorettes were as easy to come by as laser liposuction-themed billboards along I-15. After a while, so much time had passed since I had really liked a girl that I began to wonder if I was even capable of genuine romantic emotion.
But then it happened. One Sunday at church a cute girl whom I had never seen entered the chapel. In my mind’s ear I heard a voice, accompanied by a choir of angels humming in the background, introducing this fair maiden in the same way the MC introduces the starting line up at a Jazz game…”At 5’6 and a hundred and something pounds, coming to you from the everlasting hills, let’s hear it for…your one true love.” After church I made my way over to her, struck up a conversation and got her number. I called her early in the week and we set a date for that Friday night.
Because I was so excited for this date I wanted to do something special, something clever, something that would scream, “This is no ordinary guy.” So I took her to dinner and a movie. Dinner was electric. Our conversation clicked. She laughed at my jokes. There was a great vibe. At the movie we sat close, close enough to play pinky satellite. After the movie I took her home and left her with a sweet and romantic two-second hug on her doorstep. I drove back to my place a new man, my faith in love restored.
After I got home I stayed up late talking to my roommates about my night, which is what most guys do following a great first date. When I finally went to bed I was unable to sleep. I was lost in thoughts about my crush and what our future children would look like. Eventually I dozed off. I awoke early Saturday morning to thoughts of her. My crush. My love. I couldn’t get her out of my mind. I wondered if she couldn’t get me out of hers. As I lay there basking in the glow of puppy love, I decided to do something that no single man in good conscience would ever do, something that flew in the face of the name and philosophy of this very website. At 7:45 AM following the night of our first date, I picked up my phone, called my crush and asked her if she wanted to go to breakfast. You read that correctly.
In the Annals of Dumb Things That I Have Done, surely this sits somewhere near the top, maybe tied for first with that one time I asked an old friend if she was pregnant only to have her tell me in the company of her husband and a few other that she wasn’t. But in this instance I knew better. This shouldn’t have happened. If a friend asked me 100 times if he should call a girl at 7:45 AM following the night of a first date, 100 times over I would say “absolutely not”, not unless he wanted to commit social suicide.
I’ll spare myself the embarrassment of sharing with you the details of the phone conversation that ensued. Needless to say, we didn’t go to breakfast. In fact, we never went out again. Which is so weird, because I was always taught that the early bird gets the worm. The early, overeager, desperate-seeming bird gets the worm.