This story occurred many years ago when I was quite young, not even 20. I met him at a party in the group house I was moving into and he was vacating. He was cute and out-going (in retrospect the latter attribute may have been Budweiser-induced, but at the time, well…). We hit it off.
Later, some days after the party, he called at the last minute and asked me out. I cancelled another date in order to accept. Oh don’t worry – the gods punished me for this etiquette transgression. First and last time I ever did that.
When I saw him again, he didn’t seem quite so extroverted or entertaining as he had on the first meeting. Somber and humorless might actually be a more apt description. We went out to dinner, where, during the entrees, he volunteered how he’d wanted to become a priest but couldn’t because of his voracious
sex drive. Not knowing how to respond to this tidbit – remember, I was very young and it was a first date – I focused on my plate and attempted not to choke.
After dinner he took me to a sorority party at the local university. I was generally unfamiliar with sororities (still true) and perhaps had I been a little more knowledgeable, could have headed off the next derailment. As soon as we arrived, we were taken aside by one of the girls and asked to leave. Whaaa?? It turned out the theme was a “crush” party, meaning the sisters invited only guys. I don’t know if they necessarily needed to have an actual “crush” on the guy or if the idea was just to flood the house with men. Why my date didn’t know that bringing a woman with him might be frowned upon, I couldn’t say. I thought that being kicked out was pretty shabby (for one, it wasn’t like I was going to hit on the other invited guests), but my date found the demand reasonable. Not that I wanted to stay after getting that treatment, but I’d have appreciated a littttle indignation on his part or maybe, I dunno, an apology to me?
To top off this laugh-fest, we dropped by his new group home where a coupla listless bachelor housemates were lounging in front of the TV. He showed me his room. It was a monk’s cell. Twin bed and a cross on the wall. Little else. Between his professed sex drive (which I assure you I did NOT want to have heard about) and this spartan religious-themed abode, it was clear my date might just have a few unsorted ISSUES. To this day, I have no clue why he even wanted me to see the room. We were not clicking and he made no moves, so trust me, it wasn’t that.
The date ended with a whimper. We never went out again.