Thursday, June 3, 2010


Ok, I think enough time has passed that I can now safely write about this awkward experience without fear of repercussions.

Sometime last year(possibly the year before), I was sitting at home in Logan, minding my own business, when my phone rang. It was my bishop. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Hey Bishop!"

Bishop: "Hey Robby, are you busy?"

M: "Not at the moment."

B: "I'm wondering if you would be available for some service this Friday."

At this point I'm thinking that someone needs some leaves raked, or help moving, or something of that nature, so I reply...

M: "Sure, I have time."

B: "Good, do you have a pen?"

M: "Yeah."

B: "Write down this number..."

M: "Ok..."

I'm a bit puzzled but I write down the number anyway.

B: "I need you to call that number and ask for Bob, tell him Bishop B sent you."

Now I'm kind of weirded out, and wondering what I've gotten myself into.

M: "OK, but what is the service that needs to be done?"

B: "Bob's wife is in charge of an upcoming girl's choice institute dance. She has some girls who need dates, and you're going to go with one of them."

Now I'm thinking, "Shoot! What have I done?"

M: "Oh, ok...sounds fun..."

It doesn't really sound fun at all. It sounds horrible!

B: "And make sure you call him right away, I already told him you would be calling."

Seriously? Am I so pathetic that my Bishop automatically knew I wouldn't have any Friday plans?

M: "Don't worry, I will."

B: "Thanks Robby."

M: "No problem Bishop."

I hang up the phone.


Seriously, what kind of service is that? Who wants to go on a charity date anyway?
Needless to say, I'm a little irritated, and feeling like I had been majorly manipulated.

Despite my apprehension I call the guy, who promptly turns the phone over to his wife. She explains the activity and tells me that she will give my number to a nice girl, and then that girl will call and ask me out.

At this point I am feeling as though the results of that phone call would somehow seal my destruction.
I don't want to go out with some minger!
How do I get roped into these things?

Immediately my mind starts going through all the unattractive girls I come across on a daily basis, fearing that I would be paired up with the worst of them.
(I know this sounds really rude, but let's face it, there are just some people in the world that we don't find attractive at all. The fact that we don't want to go out with these people doesn't make us bad, it just means we have our preferences.)

When my roommates returned home I rehearsed the evenings events for them. They of course thought it was hilarious! I'm still not thinking that this is funny at all...

Sometime during our conversation about the impending date, a realization hit me like a ton of bricks: What if I am the service project? What if the girls of the IWA wanted to make sure that some of the guys who don't date much, get asked out to at least one dance?
I know these sorts of things happen. I've seen it in the movies!
This new possibility brought two simultaneous reactions. First, discomfort at the thought of being made a service project. Second, hope that if I am the project, maybe I would get paired up with some super-hot babe!

Before you all assume that I am some kind of loser, I should explain something. I date! I'm not unusually afraid of asking for dates, in fact I've become quite good at it over the years. I also believe that I am quite pleasant company while on a date. Despite these facts, I've never had very much success in the dating arena. At this time of my life I was going through a rather rough dating slump where I was getting turned down most of the time. In my defense, most of the rejections I suffered were because I always seemed to ask out girls who already had boyfriends.
During this period of rejection, I began keeping score. At one point it got as high as 14 rejections in a row. 14 rejections in a row! That's enough to be discouraging for anyone.
Anyway, the bishop knew that I wasn't dating much, so I figured that he had recommended me for this "service" project.

To make a long story short. The girl called me up, and gave me the details. The next day when she arrived to pick me up, I was pleased to discover that she was actually quite pretty. We went on the date, and it was ok...but WAY too long. Let me emphasize that again, WAY TOO LONG!

Here is a summary of the evenings festivities:
First we went to a large group dinner that was being put on at a local church.
Next we went to the university basketball game. Yeah, the whole thing!
Next we went to an institute dance. Again, we were there for the whole thing.
Next we went to some person's house for dessert and games.

It was like four dates in one!

I'm a firm believer that first dates should be brief. You know, in case the two of you don't click. As I recall, this date went on for a torturous eight hours!

The girl was really nice and fun, but eight hours was just far too long to spend with a person you have never met before. We had pretty well exhausted all avenues of conversation, and it became a bit awkward. Luckily we were with a group most of the time, so there were other people to talk to.

The moral of the story is this: Always make sure you know exactly what the "service project" consists of before you agree to help out. For all you know, you might be the project...
And for heaven's sake, please make first dates tolerably brief!


Erica said...

I remember this!!!!! Wasn't I there when you told us about the call!?!?!? HAhahahahahah Robby you have the best stories! I told a bunch of my family about you "red rum" incident the other day. I couldn't get through it without laughing. Miss your face.

Chess said...

Hahaha! Erica, I was there too when he told about the call!! I must've gone over for waffles that night. Oh, that's hilarious. Robby, you are right, blind dates should never be longer than a couple of hours. People just don't know when to stop here. Dates that long should just be with friends, or people you've known for at least a little while. Oh, and yes, I was dating a guy for a couple of months, but I meant that it wasn't until the beginning of my 4th year, not four years later, that I really went on a date.