Technically, the first official date I ever went on was to a formal dance at school, but I always forget that was actually a date because a boy I’d been friends with since I was nine asked me to Homecoming, kissed me there, and then didn’t talk to me for weeks afterward and only YEARS later told me he had an enormous crush on me and couldn’t work up the nerve to talk to me again. Which… the hell? Boys are so stupid.
Sorry, got a little sidetracked there. So anyway, you know how when people have been drinking and the night is inching its way towards dawn and somehow the conversation always turns into everyone in the group asking each other random questions like, “Have you ever been arrested?” or “Where’d you go on your first date?” Well, like I said, I always forget that a Homecoming dance was my first official date, and the one I tend to remember was with a guy I met in the hallway of a hotel at my friend’s birthday party, who followed me back to the party room and asked me out continuously for hours until I finally agreed. He was two years older than I was and he went to a private boarding school (although I later found out he had gotten kicked out of boarding school for too many demerits and was actually working construction, but that’s entirely beside the point) and he asked me to the movies, to see Geronimo. Yeah, the one with Gene Hackman and Robert Duvall, about the Apache and reservation disputes. If I’d had a lick of damn sense, that should’ve been my first clue that all he wanted to do was make out with me, but young girls are dumb as hell and I thought he just liked history.
I’m betting a lot of you went to the movies on your first date (or watched a movie at your parents’ house, probably with one or both of your parents hovering in the kitchen and repeatedly asking if either of you want some Kool-Aid or whatever, whilst you and your date were sitting as far apart on the sofa as you could possibly manage without one of you actually sitting on the floor). What was the movie you watched? C’mon, fess up. Can’t be any worse than Geronimo, right?
On the flip side, I’ve had two memorably great movie dates. The first was when I was 17 and my boyfriend took me to the drive-in and we sat on a blanket on the hood of his truck and ate food and played card games whilst we basically ignored Batman Forever on a ginormous screen over our heads in a corn field. The second was recently, when I was getting over the Swine Flu and a certain someone brought over soup and those tissues with Vicks in them, and he lied to my face and told me I wasn’t disgusting even though I had the Swine Flu and I was totally gross, and we watched Clue on repeat as I faded in and out of a drug-induced stupor and he kept reheating the same bowl of soup, which took me at least four hours to finish and he never once complained.
So, movie dates. First ones, best ones, worst ones? SPILL.
Sarah Larson lives in Minnesota, where she is usually up to no good. She only updates her blog when bullied into it, but you can read the archive here if you’re bored enough.
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