The Good Word

On Valentine’s Day it seems fitting that I share with you the story of the worst date I ever went on. If you are single—BEWARE—guys like this really do exist.

It started innocently enough. It was the summer of 2004 and I was a 21-year-old summer intern in the broadcasting division of Focus on the Family and I was having the time of my life. I seemed to be much more popular with Colorado mountain men than I was with the socially-awkward guys I kept meeting in my college town of Hillsdale, MI.

My boss at the time was aghast to find out that I was single and she insisted on setting me up.

First-date Lesson #1: Never allow yourself to be set-up by someone who does not know you very well.

My boss finagled a way for me to meet him prior to the date and I had an instant gut reaction—I was not attracted to him. A couple of days after this “chance encounter” he began emailing me. A steady, intravenous drip of emails began appearing in my outlook inbox before he finally asked, “Could I take you to dinner?”

I sat there, looking at the email, trying to decide what to do. I mean I really wasn’t interested…but he seemed nice enough…I was kind of broke…and it’s worth going on a date for a free dinner right?

First-date Lesson #2: Never go on a date with someone you are not attracted or interested in just because you will get a free dinner.

When I arrived at Carraba’s (luckily, I was smart enough to suggest that we meet there—just in case I needed an escape vehicle) I found that he had already been seated. It was July and he was wearing a black turtle neck and looked like he was brooding over the menu. The second I saw him I wished that I was not there (I also wished that I didn’t look so hot because I swear drool started pouring out of his mouth).

By the time our salads arrived (approx. 15.73 minutes into the date) I had found out that he was sexually abused as a child, used to struggle with alcoholism and was $23,856 in credit card debt.

First-date Lesson #3: If less than 20 minutes into a first-date a total stranger has dumped all of their emotional baggage on you, RUN!

While munching on a ranch-covered crouton he asked me what I thought about destiny. Before I had the chance to respond he entered into a soliloquy that went something like this:

“I used to think that God would naturally put someone in your path, that you would meet them, hit it off and live happily ever after.” He paused, and then asserted “Now, I believe that God gave us free-will, so that you can choose to pursue someone. For example, I used to know this guy who liked this girl, and he kept asking her out again and again and again and she kept saying no. He would just keep appearing on her doorstep to ask her out until she finally said yes, and now they’re married.”

At this point I have one thought screaming through my brain, “STALKER! STALKER! STALKER!”

I excused myself to the restroom. Unfortunately there were no windows or escape routes. As I stood there, staring into the mirror trying to decide what to do, a woman looked at me sympathetically and said, “Your date is going awful—but hang in there sweetie!” Apparently this woman was in the booth behind us and had heard the whole conversation.

Armed with her advice I made my way back to the table.

First-date Lesson #4: In moments of crisis do not listen to strangers. They can be stupid. If you feel like you are on a date with a freak, you probably are.

For the next 12 minutes conversation flowed normally. Okay, not normally, but at least it was about movies and music. He had bizarre tastes but I took this conversation as a welcome relief.  Good first date topics.

Then I made the mistake of asking him about his job. For some reason I was under the impression that he was a broadcast engineer. In reality he filed past broadcasts in alphabetical order. For a 29-year-old it kind of seemed like a dead-end job so I asked him what he saw himself doing in the future.

First-date Lesson #5: Never ask a question when you aren’t prepared to hear the answer.

His eyes lit up. He leaned in really close, looked deeply into my eyes and states with complete and total sincerity, “You know, it’s so interesting that you would ask, because recently I’ve been prophesized over. I am to become a televangelist.”

In my life I can think of a total of 3 times where I have been left speechless – I always have something to say.  Now I stuttered, I stammered, I did my best to get out an, “Oh. That’s neat.” And then turn my eyes back to my “free” dinner.

Then he reaches his hand across the table and grabs mine. He looks into my eyes and says matter-of-factly, “That’s why I think it’s so amazing that I’ve met you. I mean you are beautiful, you are outgoing, and you are a good public-speaker. Just think of the televangelism team that we will make.”

I am no Tammy Faye. For one thing, my hair isn’t big enough. “Wow. Um, that’s cool that you think that, but I’ve never really seen myself as a tele-evangelist.”

Then he utters this priceless bit of wisdom: “Eva, sometimes you don’t realize your destiny until it is upon you.”

Needless to say, his destiny did not involve a second date with me.

So this Valentine’s Day if you are tempted to go on a date for the free dinner, decline. If you are at home, alone, you might even consider turning on the TV, watching a televangelist and be thankful that it’s not you. 

Do you have a story to top mine? Leave me a comment.

Sidenote: Before you read this post, I would like to share that I am a woman of diverse interests. In the coming weeks expect to hear from me regularly on such topics as: growing up with hippie parents at Renaissance festivals, spending a year in the Land Down Under, and losing to Zach repeatedly at Scrabble (Sorry Eva, I am your editor after all).

The only things stopping me from truly embracing the lifestyle of a 70-year-old woman are working full-time, not living in Florida, and the lack of a vintage Desoto in my driveway.

I recently came to the conclusion that I have the hobbies of a seasoned, senile, senior when Zach asked me to meet with him to discuss the possibility of being a regular contributor for his blog. I told him, “Thursday night is no good, Good, I already have plans for waltzing lessons at the senior center, followed by a rousing game of bridge.” And I wasn’t kidding...that really is how I spend my Thursday evenings.

To the outside world I do my best to project myself as a “smart-stylish-sleek-professional-26-year-old-radio-diva”, but all of my real friends know that my favorite activities are closer to the pastimes of a gray-haired granny. Some of my favorite activities, besides the above mentioned, include pinochle, Scrabble over hot tea, watching Wheel of Fortune (I once had dinner with Pat Sajak), putting together puzzles, sitting on front porches during rainstorms, drinking wine, cooking, sending care packages and hand-written letters to friends, and writing speeches for my Toastmasters club.

For a brief while I even joined a crocheting club because it sounded like fun. Strangely enough, I soon found that making intricate, minute patterns with yarn is about as much fun as learning from my dentist last month that I have 8 cavities that will cost me $3,357.00 to fix.

Ultimately, though, who cares! Where did we get this perception of “age-appropriate” activities anyway? Since when should our age define our interests?  I mean, isn’t fun still fun regardless of the year on your birth certificate? I challenge you to go to a park and watch a little kid on a slide having the time of his life and ask yourself when and why you stopped enjoying going down a slide. (Of course, if you have a passion for slides and tire swings, then by all means, slide and swing to your heart’s content!)

Just because we’re “grown-ups” now, we shouldn’t disregard the lives or interests of those younger or older than us. One of my favorite authors Shel Silverstein once wrote:

Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.”
Said the old man, “I do that too.”
The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.”
“I do that too,” laughed the old man.”
Said the little boy, “I often cry.”
The old man nodded, “So do I.”
“But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems
Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.”
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
“I know what you mean,” said the old man.

Perhaps in the journey of life we need to listen to the 5-year-old at the park and the quirky little old lady at the senior center. Maybe they’re the ones having the most fun.

And if you thought you were done with, perhaps, Sesame Street, check out some highlights from this week’s episode of Scrubs: