The timing of this story now requires a bit of an explanation. I asked for Valentine's Day stories
here and you must come read the results. I'll give them more credit in the Newsviner's Picks
double issue i'm writing for tomorrow. Anyway, one of them was this one by Vacelts: Worst First Date
When it happened I considered this a huge blow to my personal self-esteem and it didn't help that my best
friend's evil brother told everyone what happened so I was a laughing stock both at school at at my Catholic Church youth ministry, which is how I knew her.
But since my dad died I've used this story instead to demonstrate what made my dad special, by which I mean independent (too much so at times, imho) but self-driven.
I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me begin at the beginning.
It was 1984. I was 16. It my first high school prom.I asked to the prom a woman who was beautiful. And she thought I was funny. She was one of the ones who would consistently laugh at stories like these
The big day approached and she had a great dress and looked hot. I had a tux and it itched.
I was, of course, nervous, as this was both a first date and the first prom and since I was a senior my one shot at the prom.
Our family had recently advanced from one V - all Volkwagons (the '63 bus and the '68 bug (my Butkimobile #1 - but that's another story) - to Volvos. Dad loaned me his Volvo.
We met up with another couple and off we went, down Interstate 91. The destination: Anaheim, Cal.
No problems, right?