Still Waiting for Mr. Right

I know it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date and maybe things have changed since then, but last I checked a person isn’t supposed to abandon their date for the balance of the evening. If that’s how things are trending these days, then maybe I’m not so sad that I don’t date much. By way of explanation, last Tuesday one of my friends, G.I. Joe, texted me to see if I was working. I wasn’t and he informed me that he wasn’t either and asked if I wanted to join him on an adventure to Portsmouth. As I wasn’t otherwise occupied, I agreed. He told me that he had some things to do in Portsmouth and we’d get home around 11. I figured we’d be getting dinner and wandering around town. It took us about two hours to get there and we had a comfortable conversation on the way there. We went to the base in Portsmouth so G.I. Joe could get his combat medals mounted. We had to go get me a visitor’s pass and the army guy in charge was hoooot. Since we weren’t going to be there long, he just let us go. I would have happily stayed there with him, but oh well. After that, G.I. Joe decided we should go to the waterfront, so we drove down to the ‘beach’ for a ‘picnic.’ Since it was windy and drizzly, we sat in the car and G.I. Joe made me a wrap of sorts. It consisted of a tortilla with some guacamole and slices of Edam cheese. It was not good, but I ate it like a good little girl. After ‘dinner,’ we got out of the car and walked along the beach that was made up of rather large rocks, which was fine with me because it prevented any sand from getting in my shoes. We walked far enough that we came across a little restaurant. G.I. Joe asked if I wanted to grab a hot chocolate and I figured it was the least he could do after the disgusting dinner he’d made. So we went in and they sat us at a table overlooking the sea. It was lovely. We each ordered a hot chocolate and then he said I could get something else if I wanted. I wasn’t entirely sure what the protocol was so I followed his lead and got an ice cream sundae. The hot chocolate was huge and the ice cream wasn’t that good.

At this point the adventure took a strange turn. G.I. Joe had to go to some sort of Army training thing. He hadn’t mentioned to me before we left that I wouldn’t be allowed to join him. So I volunteered to just hang out at a shopping center we had passed earlier. It had a cinema so I thought maybe I’d just go watch a film. G.I. Joe told me he’d be done around 8, though, so since he dropped me off at about 6:45, I decided I didn’t have time to watch a whole film. I walked around the shops until they closed and then went to the cinema to pretend that I was waiting for someone, which I guess I was. After sitting there for about half an hour, I decided to go walk around outside a little more so I didn’t look too pathetic. I even bought myself some fries at Burger King to pass the time. Totally, not worth the calories. At around 8, I texted G.I. Joe to let him know that I had decided against seeing a film and was ready when he was. I didn’t hear back from him until about 8:30 at which point he told me he was running late and would be leaving soon. I went back into the cinema where there was at least somewhere to sit while I waited. I’m pretty sure the employees felt sorry for me for getting stood up. Well, 9 o’clock came and went without a sign of G.I. Joe and I was beginning to regret my decision not to see a film. Luckily, there were trailers playing on a big screen on the wall, though after seeing them all ten times, the thrill diminished. Finally at 9:30, G.I. Joe called to say he’d be there in ten minutes. Perhaps needless to say, after waiting an additional hour and a half, that was music to my ears. The ride home was enjoyable and I do enjoy his company, though if he ever invites me to anything again, I’m taking a book.

It's a Small World After All

I went to Cardiff last weekend for a Young Single Adult Convention, really just a glorified youth conference for old people. My super good friend Jess lives there and she was in charge, so I decided this was as good a time as any to see what all the fuss was about. As you might imagine, there were guys galore and girls trying to impress them with their stupidity and general vacuousness. I met one who I would say wins, but I digress. The first night, there was a dance. It was not just any dance, it was a UV dance. We dressed in white and painted our faces with paint that glowed in the black light. I know! So exciting! There was lots of meeting new people and such. At one point, I was chatting with a kid I’d met before when one of his friends came over. When I saw him, I thought he was pretty cute. Then he started talking and his accent gave him away as a Scotsman. He said in a pretty creepy way, “I know you.” I was pretty sure he didn’t, seeing as he’s Scottish and I’m American. He tried to convince me that he had met me somewhere and I continued to protest that it was impossible. As the conversation proceeded, he asked me if I’d ever been to France. I, of course, said yes and then a look came over him. He then asked me if I’d been to Church in a certain ward in Paris in April and if I’d gone back to a certain member’s house for dinner. I said yes and then the Scotsman got embarrassed and made some excuse and left. The dance continued and then I ended up seeing him again at the end. If I’m honest, I wanted to flirt with him a bit, so I decided to ask him what he knew about what happened at that particular member’s home after dinner. He was embarrassed again and said that there were ‘reports.’ I played coy and pretended not to know what he was talking about. He said, when he and his companion arrived at said member’s house later that evening, the little brother ran out and said that his brother had “made out with the American girl.” He also told me he couldn’t actually believe that it had happened. I assured him that it had indeed happened, despite the Cheetah’s general sliminess. I felt slightly ashamed of my actions, but was able to justify myself by mentioning the fact that it was my birthday and I was in Paris. He accepted my excuse and I felt completely vindicated when I saw him sneak out of a room the next night with some random girl and a pretty guilty look on his face. Guess the world of the Church is a bit too small for me. From here on out, I’m sticking to non-members.

If only...

Okay, I know I’ve been shirking my duties of late. Things have been busy, but that’s not really a good excuse for missing out some great stories. First of all, I meant to write about this long ago. It was one of those moments I wish I could have back, mostly because I wish I could have done things differently. I always think of what I should have done after the fact, but next time I’ll do better. Anyway, here’s the story. When I went home at the end of September, I had to be to the airport pretty early in the morning. Luckily, though, I had taken the time to curl my hair, because, as everyone is aware, you just never know. I was also wearing my hot, green cardigan that makes my eyes look amazing. Well, when I got to the airport, there was a super long line and I was hoping it wasn’t the line I needed. I decided to ask and it just so happened that the last person in line was a super cute British guy listening to his i-Pod. He told me it was indeed the check-in line for Delta. Then he did something truly amazing. He put his i-Pod away. I know. That, my friends, is the sign of true interest. Once we started conversing, I discovered that he was not only handsome, but also funny, smart, and thoughtful. He had studied in Boston and actually even enjoyed American football. He was a dream come true. While I had originally been upset that the line had been so long, as we continued to chat, I was grateful for it. I began to wish that the line was even longer. He told me about how much he liked America and how lived in London now. As we got closer to the front of the line, one of the workers asked us if we were together. I wanted to say ‘yes’ but held it together. I wanted so much to give him my number, but was just waiting for the chance to say something clever that would convince him to ask for it himself. Unfortunately, just at that moment, the Delta officials asked for anyone going to New York. Even more unfortunately, cute British guy was going to New York. That meant that he was taken to the front of the line before we had a chance to finish our conversation, which I’m sure would have ended with him getting my number. And it meant that I lost my chance to ever see him again.