Let me just begin by saying that I'm extremely lucky in cards.
Love for me,however, is a gamble worse than betting my entire pot in a poker game with a 2 as my highest card.
|Royally flushed by cupid himself|
Okay I'm exaggerating. I've actually dated a couple of really amazing men; it's just that the idiots I've met actually managed to very successfully block out every good thing about my experiences with men.
However, since it is Valentine's Day, I have decided I shall try to remember and be thankful for the happier memories associated with dating.
I grew up with two brothers and five other boy cousins. Naturally, I was a disaster as a girl. If anyone ever wanted to look for me, their best bet would either be in the middle of a cricket match out on the streets or somewhere with a lot of mud and insects.
|What boys? I am a boy!|
It was obvious, therefore, that I grew up oblivious to the whole boy-girl attraction drama. I entered my teens wearing an over-sized shirt, baggy jeans and a baseball cap while other girls around me grew up all pink and glittery, giggling all the time as they traded Sweet Valley's.
|Warts on the butt of literature|
It wasn't until I started ninth grade that I finally woke up to all the fuss around me. I don't know if I should be giving this kind of information out on a public forum, but inspired by the Unicorn Club in the Sweet Valley books, my friends decided to form their own version of it. From a cricket playing, boy wrestling, insect eating goon, I became a part of the...Sweet Angels. *Throws up* We had a secret password and all that jazz.
And in tenth grade, I finally met the first man of my dreams. Actually, he met me somewhere and asked a mutual friend to set us up.
This is how the conversation went
H: A friend of mine likes you.
H: So he wants to take you out.
A: What does that mean?
H: Like a date
A: I don't get it.
H: UFF! He'll call you. Just meet him.
Trust me, I used to really be this innocent.
|This is Bubbles. No. Really!|
So anyway, this guy (I shall call him Bubbles) turned out to be really awesome and I had some really good times with him. He was suave and charming and really funny. Also, extremely cute. And he used to apply this cologne that would go straight to my head, leaving me woozy and intoxicated.
So anyway we "dated" for a couple of months; now dating in those days meant going out with a whole group of your friends. And honestly, it was pretty convenient. It took the pressure off and you could really just relax and be yourself.
The best memory I have of this relationship, however, is Valentine's Day. And I don't really mean in a romantic way.No, not at all. I mean it in the twisted, crazy world of A. way.
Since it was Valentine's Day, there was absolutely no way that I would be going out. My mom would assume I was meeting a boy,flip and ask a million questions and it just wasn't worth the hassle.
However, Bubbles insisted that I meet him, if only to take my presents. Now how could I say no after that. I mean, he was being so sweet!
So he came over and I sat in his car and then ensued my finest moment as a novice in the world of dating
Bubbles: Happy Valentine's Day
Me: Yea, you too.
Bubbles: Here are your presents (Hands me a gigantic bag)
Turns out it was a massive bag full of chocolates (I take a few moments here to wonder why we ever broke up.)
Me: Aww. Thanks :) Okay I have to go. Before mom notices I'm out.
Bubbles: Wait! There's more!
Me: *eyes sparkle* You didn't have to do this!
Bubbles: It's nothing. (Hands me a wrapped bag)
Inside were red silk pajamas. Please. Agree with me over here that that is really weird.
Now this is where the idiot in me takes over.
Me: Er! What the hell? Why are you giving me silk pajamas?
Bubbles: It's just a present!
Me: NO! THIS IS LINGERIE!
Bubbles: Trust me! This is not even close to lingerie!
Me: Bubbles, it's red and it's silk. It's lingerie! Why would you give me lingerie? You're never going to see me in these!
Bubbles: That is NOT why I gave them to you! I thought you'd look cute in them! Stop being crazy. Acha, relax. I have something else also. Forget these.
By this time, I have become extremely suspicious of this 17 year old lingerie giving boy.
And then he calmly me hands me one of those grape juice bottles that look like wine bottles.
Me: OH MY GOD! SHARAB! (alcohol!) I KNEW IT! You...you perv! I'm only 16! You want to get me drunk so I put on these red, silk pajamas and you can have your way with me!
Bubbles: *Sighs and rolls his eyes* It is just grape juice you moron.
Me: THIS WON'T WORK!
By this point Bubbles is just frustrated so he grabs the bottle and waves the label in my face.
Yes. It did say grape juice.
Me: How do I know you haven't secretly put wine in there?
Bubbles: Just go home moron. I'll call you at night.
Now, one would think that after this attack on him, he probably never called me back. Well, you're wrong. He did. He was just used to my absurdity and random bursts of insanity.
But I tell you, those silk pajamas, not so innocent. Not so innocent at all!
Clipart: Courtesy Ron Leishman