Etiquette

I attempted a sleep over with Sweaty Balls for the first time, after a Rockies game where everyone had a few too many drinks. It seemed like a good idea at the time, until, as we headed for bed, he mentioned he needed something to wear. I thought that was odd; I mean, guys usually have boxers they could sleep in. Not to mention, he was probably 150 pounds heavier than me and a boy, so unless he wanted pink spandex with red hearts, I didn't really have anything he could borrow. I stared at him, puzzled, then laughed and rolled my eyes.
"Don't be dumb," I said. "What clothes would I have that you could wear? Just wear your boxers."
He replied with annoyance (as if I was the weird one), "I always go commando."
"Oh my god. You came over to my house with no underwear on? You spent the entire night at the Rockies game, in the burning hot sun, without anything shielding your ass sweat from your pants?!"
"Stop it! It's not a big deal. Lots of guys do it."
"Ewww...your sweaty balls will not be climbing up into this bed. Couch is in the living room!"
He didn't stay; I heard the door slam as he left. We never talked again. Sweaty is not sexy.

conman.

I remember finding out that you were a convicted felon in the most nonchalant way. We had dated casually--a little on and off, both when we were "off" of our "real" relationships. And as of late, we had gotten closer. We started talking regularly on the phone--actually getting to know eachother versus just for fun and party time. And one night, as we talked late at night, I asked what you were doing the next day. You replied that you would be doing community service all day. In my naiveness, I immediately imagined you sitting around a table with minority children or building a house with Habitat for Humanity. When I asked where and what your volunteer project entailed, I remember you laughing awkwardly into the phone...no, no, no, you had said. And then you told me that you weren't exactly volunteering; you were actually doing court ordered community service. You were actually on probation for a felony you had committed a couple years prior. You had already done 3 months jail time. and that was when I judged you.

really?

As a 4th year middle school teacher, I honestly believe that I have seen some of the most awkward social interactions that exist. In my classroom, I prepare myself daily for the unexpected. I prepare for inappropriate jokes. I prepare for sudden burts of 8th grade hormones. I prepare for questions that make me blush. I prepare for the alpha-male, who cannot calm himself down. Apparently, I should have prepared myself when I learned P90X had asked me on a date because, in all honesty, he put my 8th graders' social awkwardness to shame.
P90X and I met a few months earlier, playing volleyball together twice a week with a group of mutual friends. I liked him, but I didn't know him. I do not think that the two of us had an actual conversation in all that time. So when he asked me to go to a play and dinner, in front of the whole team, I assumed it was a group event. It wasn't. I learned a few days later, through another teammate, that no one else was going. I had in fact accepted a date with P90X, and the whole team knew about our future outing.
A red flag alert went through my brain immediately...I mean, who does that? Ask a girl out in front of other people...but I'm a "down for anything kind of girl" so I never considered calling off the date. I mean, at the very least, I'd see a play and have dinner for free, right? Isn't that part of the fun of the dating awkwardness?
And so I prepared myself for the date with the simply normal routine of showering, make-upping, dressing, and perfuming. Too soon, P90X called to let me know he was downstairs. I was anxious when I walked downstairs...feelings of excitement and nervousness swam in my stomach. I took one last glance in the mirror in my condo lobby, as I walked slowly, unsure what to expect, but still carrying the normal burden and joy of first-date awkwardness.
P90X was standing outside of his car. I realized at once that I was taller than him which in hindsight is funny. The idea that his height would be anything to remember in comparison to what happened next. He openned the door for me, but I noticed with uneasy awkwardness that the door he openned and motioned for me to enter was the backseat.
As I slid into the car, P90X said calmly and with too much ease, "these are my parents, Bill and Joni."
Really? FML! His parents were in the front seat. His dad was driving. We were all going out to dinner together. And I immediately realized, with dread, that I was so not getting laid tonight.