I always had more male friends than girl friends . . . even to this day. But because of my extreme lack of experience in quixotic interaction with the opposite sex I didn’t know how to react when one actually approached me.
I remember the first time a boy every asked me out on a date. He was a very cute young man with wavy blond hair and blue eyes . . . and I actually did like him that way. He asked me to go to a movie or something of the like and I replied without any hesitation of any kind, “I’ve got better things to do with my time.” Awkward. Yes, I was classy and sensitive.
Another such . . . uhm . . . incident revolved around my first boyfriend. We had been “going out” . . . which basically meant walking to and from class together, holding hands and smooching in the school hallways. In fact, I don’t recall ever actually going out anywhere. Anyhoo, we had been “going out” for a couple of months and I didn’t really like him that way so I decided it would be best to end the relationship. On Valentine’s Day, he sent me a carnation and a little box of candy. In return, I sent him a note that said, “I am breaking up with you. I was only using you for your class ring.” Again . . . the epitome of civility.
Another time, a very handsome young man invited me to go to a dance. I agreed to go with him; he was a little older than me and quite a hotty. In the meantime, we passed little notes back and forth. Me, in my innocence and naïveté, didn’t quite comprehend the innuendo and depth of his flirtations. Somewhere along the line . . . probably when he said he would bring a blanket and we’d sneak out of the dance in order to employ said blanket . . . did I realize he anticipated, nay expected, to get lucky. Holy cow, I almost died. Fear not, my virtue remained intact for years after . . . well, a couple years anyway.
The first guy I ever really liked that way was one of my best friend’s boyfriend . . . he was my bestest friend but we never went beyond that for obvious reasons. See? I did have some modicum of class; although we did have a pretty intense smooch session right before I moved away. I guess he liked me too that way.
This might explain why I was never in any sort of real relationship until I was a bit older. I ended up marrying him when I was way too young (20) and that didn’t last . . . it lasted too long, unfortunately.
Anyhoo . . . the point is . . . well, there really is no point . . . just a little anecdote about myself. I hope you enjoy my awkwardness.