Booted for Pizza's Sake

*This date story wins a gold star for badness

As freshmen in college you do stupid things. Or stupid things happen to you. Either way it's one of the well-known, unspoken rules that everyone must (or just plain does unknowingly) follow. Years later when you look back on it all--while some details may slip away--the big, fat, stupid, embarrassing memories seem to only get more pungent with time.

This just so happens to be such a memory.

In Britain they call it the boot to begin with. The trunk I mean. Keep this in mind, or nothing else in this story will seem wondrous... or you'll completely miss the pun in the subject line. One or the other.

*Mr. Beanpole was the crazy, funny, goofy one in his apartment. However, he was also the insincere, immature and somewhat awkward one as well. My roommates thought he liked me for a while. I don't have the slightest notion why they would think that. All he did was come over with his apartment for combined FHE and sing lyrics like "we should be lovers!" at the top of his lungs just three inches from my face. He was a classic flirt, but to me that didn't mean much in my direction. Turns out I was right when I answered the phone to hear this from him.

At first he stumbled along through a hello, mentioning that he wanted to know if one of us in the apartment--and it didn't matter who--would go with him to the planetarium that night. "You could call it a date," he said. He then emphasized again, "Anyone though, it doesn't matter who." (Seriously. If you want a girl to feel like a million bucks, say that you want to go out with her... not any one of the six girls in the house. Already I was not too impressed.)

So I laughed, played along with his flippant tone by saying sarcastically, "Oh, so you'll take anything that moves right?" I thought it a clever adaption of a Runaway Bride line. I mused, "I think there's a cat around here somewhere." He laughed back specifying that it had to be a person--a girl. So, being the kindest person in the entire world (forgive me I was a freshmen), I told him I would call him back when I found one of my roommates to go with him. In my mind I was thinking that was better option than having him hear how none of us wanted to go--me included. Being the clueless, but resilient (or desperate?) type he said that this was a really last minute thing, all his roommates already had dates, so he would be right over. Right over meant I had about thirty seconds to figure this out while he crossed the parking lot. Sure enough though, each of my roommates bailed so I ended up being the bait for the date. I should have bailed too, but instead I felt bad, grabbed my shoes and we left.

The planetarium show was already in progress. They wouldn't let us in since we were two minutes late. So backup plan B (that didn't really exist) kicked in: play "capture the flag" in one of the campus buildings. I hardly saw my date, but when I did he said things that were a little weird like how he liked watching me, wanted to hear me say that he was hot, or that he would be gracious enough to let me accept one of his kisses (appending that they were the chocolate kind of course--riiiiiiiiight). Interesting topics for a first date...

Later I got to talking to his roommate, *Texas, and his date, *Sandy, to avoid Mr. Beanpole's awkwardness. Turns out the others were better company. However that didn't stop me from getting nailed in the face with a pillow by that practically impaled my glasses into my brain later at their apartment. Or in other words, it hurt. The reason for the blow? It was "a game." I think it was because I dethroned Mr. Beanpole from being king in Scum. Take your pick.

As the date came to an end out in the parking lot, Mr. Beanpole's roommate, Texas, told me to stand still. Instantly my mind raced through what he or Mr. Beanpole could possibly be thinking to do. The options not being in my favor, I disapproved, and moved. One look at Sandy told me I had done the right thing. One look at the boys said that they too were quite disappointed. However, in a distracting conversation they spontaneously picked Sandy and I both up, and put us... in the trunk.

Yes. You heard me right. The trunk of the car. So much for chivalry.

Later Mr. Beanpole said he thought it would be a fun thing to do, but might have been a little awkward to have a girl and a boy in the trunk together. How considerate that he was thinking of things he could do that were not awkward. I mean driving around town to go get a pizza on the other side of town is the most natural thing to do… IN A TRUNK. Not comfortable no matter what way you do it. Trust me on this one. Getting out of the trunk in a public parking lot is a little embarrassing. People keep looking at you with wide eyes trying to make sure you're not being abducted or something. The boys graciously (insert a nice big eye roll here) allowed the two of us girls to ride in the back of the car.

Once back safe and sound on solid ground the boys tried to prank us with an empty pizza box or dropping things so that they "had to" bend over right in front of me as I'm walking behind him up the stairs. You know, to be funny. (Not very funny at this point, but at least we did get pizza out of it in the end. Nourishment does wonders when you're desperate to get out of there.)

When Mr. Beanpole finally dropped me off, he did not leave me at the door. Instead he decided that he wanted to come into the apartment to see how my roommates would react to hearing about the date. He wanted to see how girls "talk with their eyes without talking." Most likely our faces were a mixture of "deer in the headlights" and "utter horror" but he didn't seem to catch either sentiment. Honestly, I still don't remember how I described all this to my roommates. I mean, how do you tell people that your date (a FIRST date) locked you in their trunk? It's a little awkward...

The moral of this story for the girls: just say no. Really, letting them down from the start can't be as bad as this.

The moral of this story for the boys: put the pizza in the trunk--not the date. Please!