Last week I was interrupted from my
studies when I got a telephone call from my parents. After a while,
I had to explain to them that my grades may not be as high as
desired this semester. I assured them that college is just more
demanding than high school, but they saw right through that. When
they asked what I spend all my time doing, I told them that
I’ve been going on a lot of first dates lately. They began
laughing and ridiculing me for never holding the interest of any
girl for more than one night, so I hung up on them.

Julie Pannuto

But it got me thinking, and I wondered why I never get far
beyond the first date.

Then, I remembered that last year, I went out with a girl
— for the sake of anonymity, let’s call her
“Jessica” (even though her real name is Maria).

Through my persistence, I got her to tell me what she
didn’t like about me. She gave me a copy of one of her diary
entries about me on the condition that I NEVER CALL HER AGAIN.

So I found this document, and read it carefully, trying to
decipher the hidden meanings and the delicate subtleties therein.
Considering that this Saturday will be dedicated to the memory of
St. Valentine, the love-doctor of the Catholic Church, I thought
I’d share the story with others and maybe raise awareness of
sub-par dating behaviors in hopes of one day eradicating it. The
diary read:

 

Dear Diary,

Tonight I went out with this guy named Andy, and it was
pretty much awful from the start. Through my window, I saw his car
coming down the street. It was white and had a stuffed Teletubby
chained on the front bumper. He swerved a little, and hit my
mailbox, knocking it out of the ground. He looked around, grabbed
it and tossed it into my neighbor’s bushes like nobody would
notice.

He carried a cane even though he didn’t need it, which
I think offended my grandmother who answered the door. When we left
he said, “See you later,” then he noticed her oxygen
tank and said, “well … maybe.”

On the way to the restaurant, I tried to break the ice by
saying that I liked his hair. Then he lectured me for at least
fifteen minutes about how it wasn’t orange, it was the color
of a “blazing citrus fury.” That really freaked me out.
He was also playing some really strange music. It may have been
Prince, but I really don’t know. He started singing along,
and he tried to hit some high notes that no right-minded man should
ever approach.

Dinner was really awkward. He tried to order the grilled
chicken but the waiter said he couldn’t because they had run
out. Andy then started tearing his clothes and weeping bitterly.
After a few minutes of moaning and wailing, I got so embarrassed I
just left. When I came back, I’m pretty sure I saw him
putting something in my drink. I got a new one just to be
sure.

Then we went to the movies. That was even worse. He actually
tried doing that yawning and stretching move. Except, he
didn’t put his arm around me — he put his arm around
the girl sitting on his other side! I couldn’t believe it.
The girl started screaming, and her parents chased us out of the
theater. I wish they would take him to court, as they threatened in
their broken English.

Then, we were walking down the road and came to a puddle on
the ground. Surprisingly, he took off his jacket and covered it for
me. I actually thought that was sweet, and maybe I was wrong about
him … until later when he tried to do it again with his pants.
Then I was just scared.

When he was driving me home, he got distracted and skidded
into a parked car on the side of the road. He stopped and looked
around. Then he started the car again, winked at me and said,
“This never happened.”

Finally, when we got to my driveway, I jumped out of the car
without even saying goodbye. He got out with a hose, siphoned some
gas from my dad’s Buick, and then he decided to call it a
night and went home. This was the worst night of my life.
That’s the last time I call somebody whose number I got off a
restroom wall.

—Jessica

 

Looking back now, I can see how my behavior may have been a
little inappropriate. Prince has some pretty suggestive music, and
I shouldn’t have played that at least until the second or
third date.

 

— Andy has learned from his past mistakes and has
switched his groove music to that crazy R.Kelly dude. Fortunately
for all the ladies out there, he’s still in the market for
that special someone this Valentine’s Day. Contact him at
href=”mailto:ajkula@umich.edu”>ajkula@umich.edu.

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