My first date.
I never posted about this before and why not now.
Here I am to tell you all the story of my first "date." It happened back in november and it has become quite the tale.
Prologue:
At the beginning of my senior year, there was a new guy in the grade below me. He was from England and albeit not very attractive, he was charming.
I had met him in my junior year when he came to visit the school so I had a vague remembering of his name and a little about himself. We talked in the hallways, casually. We waved and said hello. Strangely enough, we started seeing eachother 5-10 times a day in the hallways. And while my school is small, I don't often see people that much! We developed a secret hand shake which altered slightly based on how many times we saw eachother that day (our maximum was 10). He flirted, I flirted. I sort of thought things might be going somewhere...
I admit, in poor judgement, that I developed a crush on said boy. He was humorous and seemed interesting. We got along well and I was anxious to see him in the hallways. Our friendship took when after a school dance, he came over to my house along with 10 other people. Everyone was drunk. Everyone was smoking.
And then, he hooked up with one of my friends.
But I wasn't angry! I wasn't resentful! I didn't care that much and I still liked him. Now, I'm not trying to stroke my ego (okay a little bit) but I'm no dummy and yet all my common sense was out the window. Our friendship blossomed, we began to aim (he asked me for my aim name, oh yes, he was interested!)
For my 18th birthday, I had a medium-sized BBQ in my backyard (20 or so friends) and I casually invited him. He was late (he got lost trying to find my house). We chatted, I flirted, he flirted, etc.
And then, he hooked up with two of my friends. I don't completely blame my friends, they were VERY drunk and most likely not in the best state of mind to know what was going on. They also DID NOT know I had a crush on him. So...there was no back stabbing there.
BUT, I wasn't angry! I wasn't resentful! I didn't care that much and I still liked him. Good lord, Sophie, I am disappointed in you. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I had no ownership of him and I hadn't told him I liked him.
We chatted on aim a lot, and I made sure to be mysterious and aloof (I'm very good at that). And then, one day, he asked me to hang out. He lives far outside of the city so we decided he'd come over, we'd bowl, get drunk, watch videos and he'd stay over (IN A SEPARATE BED, mind you. I'm no skank.)
Actual Date:
And so, over thanksgiving break, we hung out. The night before, I had given him my house address and instructions. It's pretty fucking easy to get to my house, a MAJOR subway line runs half a block away. And yet, he got lost and called me five times to get directions. I tried to give him directions, I tried to be helpful but the man was fairly incompetent.
At last he arrived! My heart was a twitter and he was sweaty from walking up the hill. He put his stuff in my house, smoked some cigarettes (have I mentioned he's a chain-smoker?) and onto the subway we went! We chatted on the bus. At first, it was fine, it was amusing...
And then he began to lie, and I could just tell, because as a liar myself, I have EXCELLENT lie-dar. He exaggerated, he had discolored teeth and he really was not that interesting. The last thing bothered me, though we could talk, I wasn't engaged, I wasn't interested. He told me he didn't want to go to college (UH?!). And after a subway ride that felt exceedingly long, We went to the bowling alley, all the lanes were booked up for the next 2 hours. So, we went and got lunch instead (at like 3pm?). The conversation there was better, but he still tended to lie. If I tried to call him out on it, he swore up and down he was telling the truth.
We got back on the subway and went back to my house. We hung out in my bedroom for a bit, listening to music (good god, I hated his taste in music...lots and lots of Poison and Guns n' Roses, it was dreadful for me). Around 6pm, we went and bought a bottle of tequila, rented Family Guy and Father Ted (which -- to give him credit, are very humorous choices).
We got to my house and my mom was there. She knew he was coming over and approved because at the time she had only met him a few times and thought he was charming and interesting. We all had dinner together (they a tiny bit of wine, I did not). It was fine, it was just fine.
So, we got to drinking, half a bottle of tequila. It wasn't a big bottle, I promise. He got a beer from the fridge (apprently they go well together?). We each took shots, THE SAME AMOUNT OF SHOTS.
He disappears to the bathroom during Family Guy. He returns, a bit pale but fine. I go into the bathroom, it smells like my mom's perfume...I didn't spray it and after inquiring she didn't spray it...I asked him and he denied it.
I was on the couch and he was on the floor. I was fabulously tipsy and enjoying Family Guy very much! He gets up and is gone for awhile. I'm scratching my head (oh drunk Sophie, not too sharp are we?). I get up into the bathroom and he's puking! Oh is he ever puking.
Let me summarize the next 4 hours and the day after:
1. Him taking off his pants and puking more (why are these two connected!?)
2. My giving him water constantly and making sure he drinks.
3. Him continously puking.
4. I'm annoyed and the bathroom smells bad.
5. He stops puking and I run him a bath so he can clean himself up (because for fucks sake, he is covered in his own vomit *shudders*) He begins to UNDRESS IN FRONT OF ME. Good lord, so not cool.
6. I put his clothes in the laundry and clean the tub.
7. He pukes in the tub but looks less pale. I lend him MY PAJAMAS and he passes out in MY BED
8. I am still drunk so I get online and drunk-aim (highlight of my night, I swear)
9. He wakes up at 7am, after I've gone to bed at 3am taking care of him. He is loud and talking to my mom (oh I should mention my mom was FULLY AWARE he had puked)
10. I wake up at 10 (after going back to bed), he claims he's cleaned up the bathroom. I go upstairs while he's eating breakfast. Uh, so not cleaned. I can SEE puke (disgusting)
11. HE DOES NOT APOLOGIZE, HE BITCHES ABOUT A HANGOVER AND THEN OFFERS TO HANG OUT WITH ME FOR THE DAY
12. I was shocked and could not respond. So, we hung out (Oh why Sophie, why!) and he went home around 3pm.
/end of date.
So now I refer to him as Sir-Pukes-A-Lot
and the best part? He's asked me out four times since then.
Here I am to tell you all the story of my first "date." It happened back in november and it has become quite the tale.
Prologue:
At the beginning of my senior year, there was a new guy in the grade below me. He was from England and albeit not very attractive, he was charming.
I had met him in my junior year when he came to visit the school so I had a vague remembering of his name and a little about himself. We talked in the hallways, casually. We waved and said hello. Strangely enough, we started seeing eachother 5-10 times a day in the hallways. And while my school is small, I don't often see people that much! We developed a secret hand shake which altered slightly based on how many times we saw eachother that day (our maximum was 10). He flirted, I flirted. I sort of thought things might be going somewhere...
I admit, in poor judgement, that I developed a crush on said boy. He was humorous and seemed interesting. We got along well and I was anxious to see him in the hallways. Our friendship took when after a school dance, he came over to my house along with 10 other people. Everyone was drunk. Everyone was smoking.
And then, he hooked up with one of my friends.
But I wasn't angry! I wasn't resentful! I didn't care that much and I still liked him. Now, I'm not trying to stroke my ego (okay a little bit) but I'm no dummy and yet all my common sense was out the window. Our friendship blossomed, we began to aim (he asked me for my aim name, oh yes, he was interested!)
For my 18th birthday, I had a medium-sized BBQ in my backyard (20 or so friends) and I casually invited him. He was late (he got lost trying to find my house). We chatted, I flirted, he flirted, etc.
And then, he hooked up with two of my friends. I don't completely blame my friends, they were VERY drunk and most likely not in the best state of mind to know what was going on. They also DID NOT know I had a crush on him. So...there was no back stabbing there.
BUT, I wasn't angry! I wasn't resentful! I didn't care that much and I still liked him. Good lord, Sophie, I am disappointed in you. I think a lot of it had to do with the fact that I had no ownership of him and I hadn't told him I liked him.
We chatted on aim a lot, and I made sure to be mysterious and aloof (I'm very good at that). And then, one day, he asked me to hang out. He lives far outside of the city so we decided he'd come over, we'd bowl, get drunk, watch videos and he'd stay over (IN A SEPARATE BED, mind you. I'm no skank.)
Actual Date:
And so, over thanksgiving break, we hung out. The night before, I had given him my house address and instructions. It's pretty fucking easy to get to my house, a MAJOR subway line runs half a block away. And yet, he got lost and called me five times to get directions. I tried to give him directions, I tried to be helpful but the man was fairly incompetent.
At last he arrived! My heart was a twitter and he was sweaty from walking up the hill. He put his stuff in my house, smoked some cigarettes (have I mentioned he's a chain-smoker?) and onto the subway we went! We chatted on the bus. At first, it was fine, it was amusing...
And then he began to lie, and I could just tell, because as a liar myself, I have EXCELLENT lie-dar. He exaggerated, he had discolored teeth and he really was not that interesting. The last thing bothered me, though we could talk, I wasn't engaged, I wasn't interested. He told me he didn't want to go to college (UH?!). And after a subway ride that felt exceedingly long, We went to the bowling alley, all the lanes were booked up for the next 2 hours. So, we went and got lunch instead (at like 3pm?). The conversation there was better, but he still tended to lie. If I tried to call him out on it, he swore up and down he was telling the truth.
We got back on the subway and went back to my house. We hung out in my bedroom for a bit, listening to music (good god, I hated his taste in music...lots and lots of Poison and Guns n' Roses, it was dreadful for me). Around 6pm, we went and bought a bottle of tequila, rented Family Guy and Father Ted (which -- to give him credit, are very humorous choices).
We got to my house and my mom was there. She knew he was coming over and approved because at the time she had only met him a few times and thought he was charming and interesting. We all had dinner together (they a tiny bit of wine, I did not). It was fine, it was just fine.
So, we got to drinking, half a bottle of tequila. It wasn't a big bottle, I promise. He got a beer from the fridge (apprently they go well together?). We each took shots, THE SAME AMOUNT OF SHOTS.
He disappears to the bathroom during Family Guy. He returns, a bit pale but fine. I go into the bathroom, it smells like my mom's perfume...I didn't spray it and after inquiring she didn't spray it...I asked him and he denied it.
I was on the couch and he was on the floor. I was fabulously tipsy and enjoying Family Guy very much! He gets up and is gone for awhile. I'm scratching my head (oh drunk Sophie, not too sharp are we?). I get up into the bathroom and he's puking! Oh is he ever puking.
Let me summarize the next 4 hours and the day after:
1. Him taking off his pants and puking more (why are these two connected!?)
2. My giving him water constantly and making sure he drinks.
3. Him continously puking.
4. I'm annoyed and the bathroom smells bad.
5. He stops puking and I run him a bath so he can clean himself up (because for fucks sake, he is covered in his own vomit *shudders*) He begins to UNDRESS IN FRONT OF ME. Good lord, so not cool.
6. I put his clothes in the laundry and clean the tub.
7. He pukes in the tub but looks less pale. I lend him MY PAJAMAS and he passes out in MY BED
8. I am still drunk so I get online and drunk-aim (highlight of my night, I swear)
9. He wakes up at 7am, after I've gone to bed at 3am taking care of him. He is loud and talking to my mom (oh I should mention my mom was FULLY AWARE he had puked)
10. I wake up at 10 (after going back to bed), he claims he's cleaned up the bathroom. I go upstairs while he's eating breakfast. Uh, so not cleaned. I can SEE puke (disgusting)
11. HE DOES NOT APOLOGIZE, HE BITCHES ABOUT A HANGOVER AND THEN OFFERS TO HANG OUT WITH ME FOR THE DAY
12. I was shocked and could not respond. So, we hung out (Oh why Sophie, why!) and he went home around 3pm.
/end of date.
So now I refer to him as Sir-Pukes-A-Lot
and the best part? He's asked me out four times since then.