How to snag a lady: Part John

I actually convinced my husband to write his version of how we started dating! If you need to read my version, go here. John is a pretty funny guy, and I think this comes through in his writing. Enjoy...

Back in my early twenties I was living the good life. I just moved in with my Dad, I had a sweet Ford Escort hatchback that was in the shop once a month, and I had just quit my temp job assembling conveyor belts. I couldn’t ask for anything better. Being a person that turns lemons into lemonade (sans sugar) I decided to turn my part time job of delivering pizza into a full time gig.

There was this unusually happy girl that I worked with every once in a while, but now that I was working at Mio’s Pizzeria 7 days a week, we were seeing a lot more of each other. Our encounters usually went like this. Boy makes fun of girl, girl pummels boy with fists. One time she asked to see one of my skull rings I got out of a 50 cent machine and she wouldn’t give it back. Instead of forcibly taking it back and risk a beating, I decided to go with the whine, stomp my feet, and tell her I hate her approach. And just two hours later, my method proved successful.

One night however, things started to change. She was cooking up orders and I said “Hey Christy”. When she turned around, I threw a handful of flour in her face. She proceeded to chase me out the back door of the kitchen and into the parking lot. I turned around and grabbed her by the wrists to restrain her fury. It was at that moment that I almost leaned in and kissed her. I told her I’d let her go if she didn’t punch me and she agreed. Then she punched me.

Things went on this way for a while longer and one night Jason, the tubby stoner that usually gave her a ride home, was not working and I agreed to give her a ride. I was borrowing one of my friend’s cars because my baby was getting a new engine or transmission or something fucking important that shouldn’t have needed to be replaced. God I miss that car. Anyway, she was pretty disgusted because as she was getting in, I said “Wait, there’s puke all over that seat” and being the gentleman that I was, I threw another flannel shirt over top of it.

Shortly after that (I think the next weekend) I went home after work, got drunk, and headed back to Mio’s to act like I was casually stopping in because I was bored. In reality, I went back to ask her if she needed a ride home. Jason was working that night and as closing time drew near, I asked her if she needed a ride home. It was kind of awkward because Jason was right there and I thought that he liked her, but I thought fuck that tubby bitch and asked anyway. What made it even more awkward, for Jason, was when she said yes.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have gotten loaded before I picked up a girl I was starting to like because I was looking over at her and talking and I almost went straight at a bend and ran into a telephone poll. Whatever I was saying must have been pretty funny because she didn’t seem to mind that I almost killed her. Once we got back to her house she asked me if I wanted to come in. I remember her room was a little creepy because, if my memory serves me correct, she had a baby doll hanging from a noose off of her canopy bed. We were sitting on her bed and I made my move and she cheeked me. Normally I would take that as a sign of disinterest and move along, but I was drunk so I asked her if she wanted to go see my puppy, Puppy. Girls like puppies, right?

When we got back to my pad (my dad’s basement) I promptly said I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. I thought, okay she’s lying in bed with me in the dark. She has to like me somewhat. So I went to kiss her and…she cheeked me. Son of a bitch. Then I figured out what I was doing wrong. No music. Every movie I’ve ever seen there was music playing while people were getting it on. What this make out session needed was a soundtrack. For some reason I put on Grateful Dead. I guess that makes sense. Hippies…free love? That was the trick. After one of two more cheekings she submitted and we got it going on. There was one flaw in the soundtrack theory. My stereo sucked and it didn’t replay disks, so every time the music stopped I had to get up and hit play again. After the first round of The Dead, I put in some Dookie by Green Day. You know, because I wanted an album that’s even shorter so I had to get up even more. In the bed, things progressed faster than I thought they would. I was rounding third, but there were two problems. I kept getting interrupted by having to restart the fucking CD and when I’m drunk my biologicals don’t work like they should. I tried to focus, but the embarrassment was too much to bear and I couldn’t get the fact that I was limp as a gimp out of my mind. So I decided it would be best to give up and just go to sleep.

The next morning I was driving her home and for some reason I told her that I didn’t want a girlfriend or anything. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her and everything, but I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to be flaccid with just one girl. She told me not to worry because she didn’t want a boyfriend. I was off the hook, but she sounded a little pissed when she said it. I think she just didn’t want a boyfriend that couldn’t get it up. Understood. Needless to say the ride home was a bit awkward. I pulled up in front of her house, we said our goodbyes, and I never saw her again. Until the next night…and practically every night for the next 12 years.