This Dating Whoa was all me.
Back in 2005 I got married, and by January of 2007 I was divorced. I’m giving this little bit of background information because it’s probably important in understanding why I was “nervous” on my first date after spending nearly 6 years with the same guy. First dates, after being with the same person for numerous years, are scary, mind altering episodes. Of course, that might have just been me. Lets face it. I was the girl in high school that hugged the wall, walked quickly to class with my head down, never made eye contact, never played sports, and never kissed a boy until I was 18, let alone went on a date. Yeah. I was that girl. *head desk* Which reminds me of one of the few times I went to a football game and wore a cowboy hat. Only cowboy hat in the crowd.
October of 2006 I decided I was done spending life as a wall flower and that I was going to take the world on for a change. I signed up for a dance class to learn how to two step and jitterbug. I’d never been taught, and only rarely ever danced, even though it was the one thing in life I desperately wanted to learn. I was too shy to go after it. Back then, I certainly wasn’t living my new mantra of “Pioneer On!” like I plan on doing now.
First night at the class was great fun. The guy to girl ratio was about right and the instructor was good. Even with the wafting B.O. cloud that followed him. I was hooked and proud of myself for stepping outside of my safety zone. Second class was even better because a group of hunky guys showed up. Same age group as I, and fun. One guy in particular, James, was hunkier than the others and me being drunk on my new found “take charge” attitude decided getting a date with him would be my next goal.
Several classes and a couple emails/phone calls later first date happens. Now in my defense I was nervous. Real nervous. Changed clothes about 30 times and probably restyled my hair at last 15. I was determined to make a good impression. Probably a little to determined because I ended up picking him up, and planning the evening’s activities. Which was supposed to include a drive to Sir Scots Oasis in Manhattan Montana. They’ve got the best steak fingers of all time, and it’s an insanely friendly place to go.
Ended up being that I didn’t plan very well because Sir Scot’s was full and we ended up in Bozeman and Johnny Carionos. No biggie. Still good food, just a slightly farther drive and plenty of time to get to know each other, right?
Cue the strawberries and blueberries.
My car just happened to be in the shop at this time, so I was zipping around in a sporty Pontiac G6. A car that had me literally speeding everywhere because I wasn’t used to having a vehicle that accelerated quickly.
Add in my nervousness about being in a small car with hunky James and it was a recipe for disaster.
Ended up with a speeding ticket for doing 97 on the highway, which has a speed limit of 75. And I tried flirting with the officer in an effort to get out of the ticket, which didn’t help.
I’m pretty sure that was the beginning of the end of that relationship, which lasted 3 weeks and ended with him saying “He just wasn’t falling in love”.