Tuesday, August 4, 2009

My 1st attempt ever to ask a girl out:

I've been thinking about why I have such a hard time approaching not only women, but agents, fellow travelers and the like. I bring it back to one big traumatic experience and the meaning I made out of it.

You see, there was girl I had a HUGE crush on when I was 16. Well, she just saw my facebook photo and blushingly complimented me on it. (her pic is at the bottom)

Made my night.

So I asked her if I could relate the story of the time I tried to ask her out. This was the first time I'd ever asked anybody out.

I was so embarrassed to be taken to the movies by my parents I promised never to ask someone out til I was 16. Now I'd made it there. I had my license, and I called this girl Danelle.

I was 16 and scared of the phone. I could barely call my best friend Todd. What if his mom picked up? But I had a horrible crush on Danelle so I called her at work (she was the receptionist), because if I called at home and got her parents, what would I say?

After some serious psych up exercises, I dialed the rotary phone. Ring.

"Hi. Danelle? It's David."
"Oh, hi."
"Hey I was wondering if you wanted to go to a movie tonight?"
"Oh, um. This is David who?"
"...Rodwin. It's David Rodwin."
"Oh, right. Hey. Hi. Yeah. Oh, hold on, there's someone else calling in."

I begin literally hitting my head against the wall until she finally comes back.

"Hey, David. Yeah, a movie sounds great. That was Maryam. She wants to come to. So she'll bring her date and I bet Anne & Mark & Kathy want to come. We should ask Todd & Laura too. Oh! and Maryam wants to see Full Metal Jacket. Cool?"

Not Cool. Lord. 6 people sat between me and Danelle through the most unromantic film known to man.

I think to this day she had no idea I even tried to ask her out on a date.

She just told me on Facebook that it's all about timing, if I'd just asked her out at the end of her senior year, she'd have said yes. I waited to confess my infatuation with her til that summer and continued to as she went to college. Didn't go over well.

She's now married with two beautiful kids. And I'm blogging to you from The Holy Land about to get into a full size bed with my dad.

1 comment:

  1. David, an inspired (if sad and all-too-familiar) blog entry. It made me think of this poem, which I like so much, I am also posting on your Facebook page.
    Cheers, Flip

    Pumpkin-Envy, by Charles Harper Webb

    How many hours did I lie in bed, thought stapling
    my sixteen-year-old arms to the sheets,
    thought's curare, when I finally did dial Tami Jamison,
    numbing my lips too much to speak?
    . . .
    Thought is a rope that pulls the kite out of the sky --
    a cramp that locks the boxer's chin as fists hiss
    toward his head. . .
    How many odes would Keats have traded for one
    night with Fanny Brawne? What did understanding do
    for Nietzsche, but make him more insane?

    Thought is more deadly than crack or heroin.
    Its pipe to my lips, its needle in my vein,
    I loll in my dark room, and envy pumpkin vines.

    Whatever's in their way, they overrun. Unafraid
    of blight, birds, drought, or humans' being,
    they stretch out in the heat, let their roots drink deep
    and -- never giving a thought to anything --
    make a million copies of the sun.