I’ve really struggled with writing this particular “best date” story. And I suppose I could trump up some mediocre date to take its place, but I believe in being honest, true…etc…so I will try.
Rhett was younger than me, and at first I really resisted dating him. He was the third in a rather quick succession of post-mission boys, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to get involved with another boy who would inevitably shatter my heart. But I am a sucker for flowers and flattery, so before long, I was hooked.
I was working at Barnes and Noble at the time, and usually had a Saturday night shift that didn’t end until 11. But one Saturday was slow, so my manager told me to go home at 7. I called Rhett to tell him I’d be free to hang out, and his brother-in-law told me, “He’s out doing church stuff.”
“Oh. Okay. Well, then, tell him I’m off work and to call me when he gets back.”
“Ummmm…in that case, I better tell you the truth: he’s on his way to surprise you at work.”
Swoon.
So I waited for him there at the store, and when he arrived, we decided to just make a night of hanging out with his sister and brother-in-law. We played several hands of Euchre and chatted and laughed and ate.
When I finally left, Rhett walked me to the door and said, “I’m sorry if I didn’t say a whole lot tonight. I couldn’t stop looking at you–you’re so beautiful.”
Swoon.
And kiss.
If you haven’t noticed a pattern by now, let me share: my best dates aren’t carriage rides in the park or backstage passes at a concert. They made me feel comfortable, they made me feel adored, they made me feel valued. I really am a pretty low-maintenance kind of girl when it comes to dating.
But alas and forsooth, Rhett and I eventually disintegrated–to this day it was the worst heartbreak I ever felt. Which is why this date was so hard to write about. But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my dates with Rhett were some of the best I’ve ever had.
And I can’t lie, because I believe in being honest, true, etc…
Tune in tomorrow for the number one worst date of all time…it’s fabulous.
All names in this series have been changed to protect the guilty.
You have the most interesting dating life I've ever read–way better than Sex in the City if you don't mind me saying. Why don't you start making this into a book? God damn, it would be hilarious. Make it fiction if that helps. Somthing. This stuff is too good, man, too good.
Not only hilarious though, for the record, it is sweet without being sappy (that is a fine wire to walk by the way). Well done.
Coming from you, that is probably the best compliment I've ever received in my entire life. I'd like to write a book, but have no idea how to go about it.
To me it looks like you've already started writing so . . . you know . . . uh, yes you do!