A Night To Remember…

I had decided. I had decided with my horrible, awful luck with men (and I use the term men very loosely) that maybe - just maybe it was the “type” of men I was dating. I had decided against all of my better judgment and all of my friends better judgment to go out with him. Sure he wore white, old, gym shoes with his Sunday pants, sure those worn pants looked like he was waiting and prepared for that flood Utah had been predicting for years and years and years (right). But when I cut my finger, with a small pocket knife at the Christmas party he sure seemed quite normal and caring. You know making sure I wasn’t losing too much blood, finding a un-used napkin to wrap it in and being very attentive to my every need. Besides, was it really for me to judge what was “normal”? He was nice to me. Very nice.
The day he followed me out to the parking lot after church was the first time I had the slightest twinge of a second thought about him. He asked me for my phone number,
“So eh, maybe eh, we might be eh, able to eh, go out and eh, do something, maybe, sometime?”
With his big, toothy, but endearing grin and the way he nervously pushed his blonde hair back, standing there like a nervous little boy - come on! How could I say no??? So I smiled, squinting into the sunlight and said a quick but intrigued,
“Sure!”
My number one dating support was not around when I made these plans for the date. She was across the country in New York. I couldn’t use her to make sure his message on my phone didn’t sound too creepy, or that I dressed conservatively enough for him. This should have been my first warning sign - Dressing conservatively. Usually on a date you are worried about not dressing sexy enough, but with this guy I felt like wearing a long skirt and turtle neck would be a little too much... maybe I needed gloves. I was at this alone! It was okay, embarking on my new independent life meant I was capable enough to get myself ready for a date without another woman’s advice.
He showed up late. I guess I was surprised. I mean a first date and late? I lived at a fairly easy address to find. Whatever. I didn’t invite him in mainly because we didn’t have time, and I guess more honestly because I didn’t want him to be too comfortable.
He had parked across the street. Just far enough to not quite step from curb to floor of car, just close enough that it made it quite difficult to try to work my way in with the curb in the way. Thank goodness I didn’t wear the skirt. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. Looking like he ran off from wherever he worked, a place without a dress code, and came to my place. And those gym shoes!! Did he ever take them off??? I on the other hand I was wearing my nice and conservative slacks and button up shirt. As he shut my car door I was just quick enough to move my foot out of the way before it was violently crushed in the tragic accident of door injury. Although I have never heard of this happening, an appendage being take off by a date closing the door too soon, I was afraid that I would be the first. I sat in silence as he went to his side. Nice car. He cant be too bad if he drove a car like this. Definitely not a Jeep but definitely not a Station Wagon, like I had expected.
Let me back up a little. Let me tell you as much about “Ed” as I knew when I agreed to go out with him. He was older than me. He lived in our small town. He came from a polygamist family. And.... nope that is about all I knew.
Back to the story. So we now are both sitting in his car. I expect him to turn the car on, and drive away. Wouldn’t anyone?? I still didn’t know where we were going or who we were going with or if the date was actually sitting in his car for a few hours. He looked over at me and asked quite matter-of-a- fact,
“Are you going to say it or do you want me to say it?”
I laugh. This isn’t how most people start conversations, but okay.
“Say what?”
I asked innocently. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“The prayer. Do you want to say it or do you want me to say it?”
He asked again. A prayer!?!? Okay now lets get something straight although, I have at times been religious, never have I said a prayer before a date. I thought it was just a myth of sorts, a rumor spread by the adults in the church to get us to realize “How very serious dating is.” Never, NEVER had it happened to me on a date before! Probably because God wouldn’t want to be included on the dates I went on. Okay, okay fine. A prayer couldn’t hurt. So I persuaded him to say it. After one abnormally long prayer - especially to start a date, we were off. I still didn’t know where we were going though.
“Ed, I was just wondering what you had planned for the night.”
Expecting a dinner and movie I was surprised to hear him answer,
“We are going to the comedy club. We are meeting another couple there. Two friends, don’t be jealous, but, I used to date the girl who is going to be there. Yeah, we were priii-tee serious. Oh and Jamie, I am quite worried.”
Okay so there is going to be an “ex” there. Was she a big, strong, jealous woman who hated red-heads??
“The things the comics might say might really offend you, if that, in reality is the case, please don’t hesitate to tell me and we will leave.”
Suddenly I was transported. Transported to sitting in a classroom as a two year old. That is how he was speaking to me. Soft and slowly so that I would understand. If Ed knew me at all he would know that very little a comic in Utah might say would offend me. Plus what did I really have to worry about? He said prayer, right??
To Be Continued…
**Written in 2005