Feels like forever...
Today is the 3 year anniversary of Ryan and my first date; the date I insist was never a date. Let me explain…
Around February of 2007, tickets for Morrissey were going on sale. I was living in Salinas, having just moved back from Los Angeles and some friends of mine in Fresno all wanted to go. One of my friends was supposed to purchase tickets for her and her boyfriend and one for me. Having not heard from her in a few weeks I assumed that everything was a go and my ticket would be waiting for me.
Flash forward a few more weeks and I get a phone call from SBI. I assume it is Heather, but to my surprise it is Ryan. I immediately get nervous because I have no idea why he is calling me and I do NOT do well when I am caught off guard. I always knew he would be attending the show with us, but I had no idea it was going to be just us and one other couple.
He explained to me that Heather NEVER bought a ticket for me or herself, but that he had an “extra” ticket he would be willing to give me. I figured no big deal and told him I would go with him, still not thinking anything of the situation. Apparently there was a lot of thinking going on on the other end of the line.
Now, everyone keeps asking me who I am going to the show with and when I tell them Ryan they all assume it is a date. I am quick to correct them and explain how I was planning on going but tickets got messed up so we were just going together essentially to car pool. The response of people was about 50/50 some who thought it was for sure a date and others who agree with me.
On the day of the show I am getting ready and everyone around is telling me that because I am getting all dressed up it MUST be a date. NO, I am going to see Morrissey for god’s sake. YOU GET DRESSED UP FOR MORRISSEY or he cries and walks off stage. Anyway, Ryan arrives and we head out to Stockton to meet up with mutual friends and go to the show.
The conversation on the way there was great, like talking to an old friend. I had known Ryan for a few years, but never once had a one on one conversation with him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the company, but I was still very much of the mindset that this WAS NOT A DATE.
We met up with our friends, had dinner, went to the show where Moz walked off stage early because people suck at life and then walked to the car go head home. I had driven there (my car) and when Ryan offered to drive home I was pumped. I hate driving and always jump at the opportunity for someone else to drive.
We make it to Chowchilla and my car needs gas. Ryan pulls over and insists on pumping the gas for me. “Well that is nice of him,” I think, as I reach for my credit card. What happened next was so traumatic that is changed the entire course of the evening in one sentence. “Oh, don’t worry about it; I’ll get your gas.”
Most girls would be excited or grateful, but me, TERRIFIED. Why was he buying my gas? Oh my god, he bought my dinner too! HOLY SHIT MAYBE THIS IS A DATE! Immediately I felt like I was going to shit my pants and vomit all at the same time. Somehow I held it together and managed just a mild deer in the headlights expression.
How could I have not seen it? Everyone else seemed to notice that the turn of events screamed DATE but not me, no, never saw it coming. Now what was I going to do? I couldn’t wipe the traumatized look off my face, I have never been a good liar…I think I am going to DIE.
After the tank is full Ryan got back into the car and I’m sure he could tell there had been a drastic mood shift. We went from talking almost non stop to SILENCE. I imagine he was like um, was it something I said? What is wrong with this chick? Maybe I should tell her this isn’t a date and save myself from this weirdo.
How did I break the silence you may ask? I inquired how much I owed him for the Moz ticket. I thought this was simply me being polite. I would never assume that he would buy a ticket for me. Apparently this was dagger through the heart number one for Ryan.
When we were about a mile away from my house the overwhelming urge to vomit started up again and all I could think about was how I was going to get out of the car and run inside without him noticing. Unfortunately my invisibility cape was at the cleaners and I was fresh out of creative ideas for a disappearing act. I would have to face this like a grown up, I HATE being a grown up.
We pulled up to my house and I jumped out of the car, trying to act cool and collected all the while holding back nervous diarrhea. I am pretty sure I offered to pay for the ticket once more just to drive home that this WASN’T date and then there we were, standing next to each other in the middle of the street.
I was completely paralyzed. I couldn’t let him walk me to the door, what if he tried to kiss me. What if I threw up in his mouth? So there I stood, trying desperately to come up with an excuse. “You don’t need to walk me to the door, I’m sure your knees are sore from driving all that way.” Dagger number two.
Perfect excuse, I think and with a quick side hug and I am headed for the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, I am moving back soon.” Dagger number three, straight through the heart.
Later I had to hear everyone tell me what a cold hearted bitch I was for running away and not knowing it was a date. In my defense, well I have no defense; I’M CRAZY, GIVE ME A BREAK!
You’ll be glad to know that it only took 3 months for the urge to vomit to go away. And now, 3 years later I couldn’t be happier about our “date.”
Love you babe!
Around February of 2007, tickets for Morrissey were going on sale. I was living in Salinas, having just moved back from Los Angeles and some friends of mine in Fresno all wanted to go. One of my friends was supposed to purchase tickets for her and her boyfriend and one for me. Having not heard from her in a few weeks I assumed that everything was a go and my ticket would be waiting for me.
Flash forward a few more weeks and I get a phone call from SBI. I assume it is Heather, but to my surprise it is Ryan. I immediately get nervous because I have no idea why he is calling me and I do NOT do well when I am caught off guard. I always knew he would be attending the show with us, but I had no idea it was going to be just us and one other couple.
He explained to me that Heather NEVER bought a ticket for me or herself, but that he had an “extra” ticket he would be willing to give me. I figured no big deal and told him I would go with him, still not thinking anything of the situation. Apparently there was a lot of thinking going on on the other end of the line.
Now, everyone keeps asking me who I am going to the show with and when I tell them Ryan they all assume it is a date. I am quick to correct them and explain how I was planning on going but tickets got messed up so we were just going together essentially to car pool. The response of people was about 50/50 some who thought it was for sure a date and others who agree with me.
On the day of the show I am getting ready and everyone around is telling me that because I am getting all dressed up it MUST be a date. NO, I am going to see Morrissey for god’s sake. YOU GET DRESSED UP FOR MORRISSEY or he cries and walks off stage. Anyway, Ryan arrives and we head out to Stockton to meet up with mutual friends and go to the show.
The conversation on the way there was great, like talking to an old friend. I had known Ryan for a few years, but never once had a one on one conversation with him. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy the company, but I was still very much of the mindset that this WAS NOT A DATE.
We met up with our friends, had dinner, went to the show where Moz walked off stage early because people suck at life and then walked to the car go head home. I had driven there (my car) and when Ryan offered to drive home I was pumped. I hate driving and always jump at the opportunity for someone else to drive.
We make it to Chowchilla and my car needs gas. Ryan pulls over and insists on pumping the gas for me. “Well that is nice of him,” I think, as I reach for my credit card. What happened next was so traumatic that is changed the entire course of the evening in one sentence. “Oh, don’t worry about it; I’ll get your gas.”
Most girls would be excited or grateful, but me, TERRIFIED. Why was he buying my gas? Oh my god, he bought my dinner too! HOLY SHIT MAYBE THIS IS A DATE! Immediately I felt like I was going to shit my pants and vomit all at the same time. Somehow I held it together and managed just a mild deer in the headlights expression.
How could I have not seen it? Everyone else seemed to notice that the turn of events screamed DATE but not me, no, never saw it coming. Now what was I going to do? I couldn’t wipe the traumatized look off my face, I have never been a good liar…I think I am going to DIE.
After the tank is full Ryan got back into the car and I’m sure he could tell there had been a drastic mood shift. We went from talking almost non stop to SILENCE. I imagine he was like um, was it something I said? What is wrong with this chick? Maybe I should tell her this isn’t a date and save myself from this weirdo.
How did I break the silence you may ask? I inquired how much I owed him for the Moz ticket. I thought this was simply me being polite. I would never assume that he would buy a ticket for me. Apparently this was dagger through the heart number one for Ryan.
When we were about a mile away from my house the overwhelming urge to vomit started up again and all I could think about was how I was going to get out of the car and run inside without him noticing. Unfortunately my invisibility cape was at the cleaners and I was fresh out of creative ideas for a disappearing act. I would have to face this like a grown up, I HATE being a grown up.
We pulled up to my house and I jumped out of the car, trying to act cool and collected all the while holding back nervous diarrhea. I am pretty sure I offered to pay for the ticket once more just to drive home that this WASN’T date and then there we were, standing next to each other in the middle of the street.
I was completely paralyzed. I couldn’t let him walk me to the door, what if he tried to kiss me. What if I threw up in his mouth? So there I stood, trying desperately to come up with an excuse. “You don’t need to walk me to the door, I’m sure your knees are sore from driving all that way.” Dagger number two.
Perfect excuse, I think and with a quick side hug and I am headed for the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you around, I am moving back soon.” Dagger number three, straight through the heart.
Later I had to hear everyone tell me what a cold hearted bitch I was for running away and not knowing it was a date. In my defense, well I have no defense; I’M CRAZY, GIVE ME A BREAK!
You’ll be glad to know that it only took 3 months for the urge to vomit to go away. And now, 3 years later I couldn’t be happier about our “date.”
Love you babe!
it is so funny that you posted this today...steph and i were driving up from santa barbara and talking about how you and ryan went on a non-date date....now she can see how close to right i had the story but added the puppies and ice cream parts
ReplyDeleteforgot to add....i am so very happy that the non-date date worked out the way it did....we are so blessed to have ryan in the family....miss all of you, home thurs evening
ReplyDeleteI loved this story! But really you don't need to feel bad cause my first date w/ Nathan was horrible.... Mainly because I decided to blurt out my entire relationship history and scare the crap out of him (probably flug 50 daggers at him at once) and then for 3 months give him the run around between wanting to be friends or more haha ( Russian Roulette). Man no wonder guys think were crazy.
ReplyDelete