Dating is complicated. College is a time to experiment, meet new people and potentially find that person you can see spending the rest of your life with. But let me tell ya, the path isn’t a bed of roses. In fact, I would go as far as saying that 2007 probably went smoother for Britney Spears than my current romantic journey has gone for me.
“Oh, Taylor,” you think in your slightly condescending, I’m-not-actually-a-mother-but-I-sure-sound-like-one-right-now tone. “Everyone has a tough time navigating the murky waters of dating.”
Oh, really? Did you tackle a poor boy in kindergarten, trying to express your love for him? Or during your first kiss, did your arm make a weird farty sound against the guy’s arm as you pulled away with a look of pure horror on your face?
Yeah, I didn’t think so.
I think the worst thing that happened to me was during my junior year of high school. It was the night of homecoming, and I was going with a guy who I happened to have a huge crush on at the time. Needless to say, I was pretty excited and extremely nervous.
My date did not have his driver’s license at the time, so I was forced to drive us on my two-week-old license. From those who know me well, my driving ability has been compared to that of an 80-year-old woman.
After we performed the traditional exchange of the boutonniere and corsage and snapped a few cheesy photos in front of the fireplace, we were off. Just the two of us. In the isolated car. With no other sane person to filter my not-so-sane commentary.
“Holy shit! Did you just see that giant bear?! Should we call someone? Like Steve Irwin or something?!” I swerved off the road a bit and received a honk from the enraged car behind me.
“Um, Taylor, that was a dog…,” my date nervously laughed, probably thinking, “WTF did I get myself into.”
“Oh. Right.”
In my defense, it was a pretty big dog. And I’m sure there’s a large bear population running rampant in the streets of suburban Libertyville, Ill.
After that little incident, the night seemed to be running swimmingly. We grabbed dinner with the rest of our group and headed off for the high school gym to get our groove on.
I was feeling pretty confident with my interactions with my date. In other words, I was being freaking hilarious and charming. No biggie. But while I was busy being all swag-like, I failed to notice one small detail.
“Taylor…,” my date said, trying to butt into my brilliant explanation of why Batman isn’t a real superhero while a look of pure terror crept onto his face.
“And you know what? Who does Batman think he is? Like, just because he’s rich he thinks he can buy his powers? Honestly, what a pretentious douchebag—”
“Taylor!” he screamed, his voice cracking slightly.
“What?” I looked over calmly.
“Um, I don’t know how to say this, but you’re like, driving on the wrong side of the road!”
I realized in a horrific moment that when I pulled out onto the road from the restaurant, I had pulled onto the wrong side of the road, and I was now separated from the correct side of this two-lane road by a wall. I looked out in front of me, and saw a pair of headlights.
Panicked and with little driving experience without my dad, I somehow thought it would be a great idea to pull some “Fast and the Furious” shit and keep driving the wrong way, actually speeding up as I did so. I feel I can’t really be that responsible for my actions because, at that point, the only thing I was thinking was the lyrics to Carrie Underwood’s “Jesus, Take the Wheel.” The car coming my way managed to swerve out of my warpath as I frantically searched for the end of the median rather than the logical person’s thought of just pulling over and making a U-turn.
Oh yeah, my date? Pretty sure he was clinging to the car door and whimpering slightly.
But you know what? I eventually did find the beautiful, shining break in the median. And we survived. We did not die!
Needless to say, the romance of that night pretty much puttered out at that point. I think my date was happy to get to the dance merely to get out of the small, enclosed space with the girl who almost took his life.
Finding that special someone is not an easy task. I mean, just look at the show “The Bachelor.” Clearly so realistic. But I think that it is part of our human nature to not give up on finding our other half. You shouldn’t be ashamed of who you are or how you act when you are dating someone because, if he really cares about you, he will accept you for who you are and will eventually forgive you for repeatedly putting him in situations that put his life in danger.
