Every Dozen Roses Has Its Dozen Thorns

I mentioned the other day how many of my childhood dating exploits were huge productions, and also giant disasters.  Today I will tell you the tale of the very first time I asked a girl out.

I was in the 8th grade, and was positively smitten with this girl whom we'll call Cassandra.  I don't remember what the reasons were that drew me to her, but my guess is that it was because she was cute and she'd probably said hello to me in the hallways once.  Hey, sometimes that's all you need for true love to bloom.  And bloomed it did, and love her I would.  Oh yes.

Anyway, for whatever reason I decided that the ONLY way to ask out the future Mrs. Dvdguy was to have a dozen roses delivered to her house with a note from me asking if she'd like to go out sometime.  I mean, it works in the movies, right?  I knew she'd swoon and her friends would have to fan cool air on her to bring her back to a state of consciousness after my bold, romantic gesture.  We'd be the perfect couple and always have a great story to tell our 2.3 kids someday.

My master plan had been formulated for all of about 10 minutes when I encountered the first major obstacle on my journey towards true love: she wasn't in the phone book.  Now keep in mind kids, this is before anyone had even heard of something called the internet where you can stalk people in your leisure time.  I had to think of truly inventive ways to stalk her.

For example, I came up with a solid plan while spending the weekend with a friend.  Cassandra was into soccer in a big way, and so I convinced my friend to call her and pretend he was a representative of whatever big soccer magazine was on the market at the time and offer her a free subscription.  She was too crafty for us however, and declined the free gift.

I would have to go to Plan B.

Cassandra was also in the chorus at school, and coincidentally, so were some friends of mine.  Now the chorus director kept a file or a rolodex or something on the desk in the chorus room with the contact info for all the chorus members.  I convinced two of my friends to help me out by having one of them distract the chorus director after class while the other "borrowed" the information.  Finally, the wheels were in motion, and eventually, the information was mine.

So here's where I didn't exactly think matters through.  I had the flowers delivered to her on a Friday.  I wouldn't see her again until Monday to get her response, and the weekend was pure torture.  What was she doing?  What was she thinking?  My friends and I had joked up to that point that the reason we couldn't get her address was because her family was in the FBI's Witness Relocation Program, and maybe my gesture had been misinterpreted as a sign from the mob that they were on their way to make the whole family sleep with the fishes.  So were they packing up and leaving town?  Would I ever see her again?

Monday finally arrived.  I'm not entirely clear on the timeline of the day, but I'm pretty sure that Cassandra and I had a class together and I figured it was going to be there that she made her move and kissed me in front of everyone, declaring her undying love for me.  The class was late in the day, so I was already stressed enough as it was, and then the class just kept going on and on and on without so much as a glance in my direction from Cassandra.  Finally the bell rang, and as she walked down the aisle towards me and towards the exit, she tossed me a note.  Her face didn't exactly express what I wanted to see.

So, you know, I read the thing.  It filled an entire page and yet all it really said was "Thanks but no thanks".  It seemed to be a little long-winded for what was my first experience seeing the words "just friends".

I readily admit that afterwards I was a colossal ass about the whole situation, partly to amuse my friends but mainly because it really made me unhappy and I had absolutely no idea how to deal with rejection yet.  Throughout the years I really felt bad about how I acted back then and luckily, years later, I got to apologize to Cassandra.  She'd blown it off as ridiculous junior high school drama and hadn't given it a second thought.  But it still felt good to apologize for it.

Ten years later, I would get the bright idea to try the flowers thing AGAIN, with what I consider to be even more ridiculous results.  But I'll save that story for the next installment.

Comments

[Denirogator]

this isn't the incident that brought on the throwing the chair out the window is it?

[dvdguy]

No, I believe the chair throwing thing was a result of that girl I talked about last time breaking up with me.

[leslie]

Flowers? Chair throwing?

::off to pop the popcorn::

[dvdguy]

I guess I should explain... in junior high English class I may have halfheartedly tried to throw a chair out of a closed second story window. But no one was paying much attention to my act of rebellion so I lost interest.

I was also on drugs at the time.

[gunther]

that's so sad (sniff sniff!) I didn't get flowers 'til way past high school - that's a very classy thing for a little kid to do - maybe you were too sophisticated for her -

[Michelle]

How sweet! What a romantic little stalker you were! *giggles*

[melanie]

i LOVE puppy-love stories! when i was in 5th grade (which, by the way, was the pinnacle of my social popularity, given my incredible kick-ball skills), a boy we'll call "pete" liked me. we went on a class trip to the museum of natural history, and he bought me a little statue of a white horse, and snuck it into my back-pack... since i didn't know it was in there, i must have broken it while toting my bag along, pbly whackin people or walls with it, and so when i found the little tissue-paper wrapped package and opened it back in the classroom, the poor little horse's legs were broken off! word quickly spread that i was so horrified by a gift being from him, that i broke them off on purpose..fast forward a few days, and ANOTHER little boy we'll call "michael", snuck yet ANOTHER little horse-brooch this time, into my bag... when i opened this particular package, the note inside said: dear melanie, i like you. if you don't like me, please don't break the horse's legs.. it used to be my grandma's. just give it back please. love, michael"
ha! i was an accidental heartbreaker!
the following year, i went on to junior highschool, cut my hair really short (in what i thought was a sassy move--i was wrong), was put into honors classes, girls stopped playing kickball, and i watched any and all of my popularity go straight down the shitter.

[melanie]

post-script:
at 31 years old, i still have the little white horse w/ the broken legs in my "memories" box... i gave the horse-pin back.

[Anna]

I think that's such a cute story!
I had a really nice guy bring me a bunch of roses once, and I so blew him off. I feel bad now. Young girls always have a problem with treating the nice guys like crap, I think.

[dvdguy]

Young girls or girls in general?

[Denirogator]

the latter

[Remember 9-11]

*Gets the diet coke to go along with LDC's popcorn* Chairthrowing and roses. Wow, did I ever go to the wrong school. Such passion! Jerry Springer style.
Were we all like that when hormones were raging uncontrollably?
I have never recieved roses or "gifts" of that nature from a male, {or female for that matter} at any point in my life. I was told at a recent school reunion that I seemed "unobtainable." What the heck?
I was fairly sheltered though, my graduating class consisted of 19 people. Yes, private and catholic religious type. Where were guys like you when I was coming up in school?

[Remember 9-11]

Heyyyyyyyy not ALL of us girls treat guys like crap!

[melanie]

tee hee! yes we do!!!
we're all crazzzzzzzzzzzy!
but that's why they love us.
they just don't realize it consciously.

[Remember 9-11]

So you mean we're not SUPPOSED to cook and clean for them? OOooohhhh NOW I get it! Treat guys like crap, they dig it. *checks off on the list* Thanks Melanie!

[dvdguy]

Let's not get into this debate. Moving on...

[melanie]

"so it's like, if you're nice to them, they bring you stuff?"
--who can name the quote???

[leslie]

::sigh::

Gentlemen, gentlemen... please stop with the same old tired argument about nice guys finishing last and girls liking "bad boys"

Young girls, maybe. But all it takes is one broken heart and the nice guys are totally appreciated beyond their wildest dreams.

Popcorn, anyone?

[dvdguy]

Melanie, the movie you quote is PCU. Let's talk about the goodness that is PCU.

[Remember 9-11]

Here here LDC! *claps wildly* Well said. *takes the popcorn and hands off the drinks*

[anonymousfriend]

Why "nice guys" are overlooked:

Number one, "nice guys" have no spine. That gets old after a short period of time. Guys with spines who are courteous and have manners do not refer to themselves as "nice guys" because they know that the term refers to a man who lacks self confidence, and has to make up for it by going way over the top to award a glance with unsolicited gifts and affection.

Then you have the "self-proclaimed nice guys" which are a different animal altogether...the ones that think they are such a good catch and that women are stupid for not falling all over them. Ha.

I'd rather have a good man than a nice guy, anyway. If you knew me, that would send you into a laughing fit that lasted a week. Especially since today is my 5th wedding anniversary and I'm going out with friends instead of *him*.

(I just reread what I wrote. I'm speaking in general terms. I'm not referring specifically to the post or commentary)

[gunther]

once again to quote the great C. Laughton -

"I'm surrounded by rougues"

[JBH]

Tip of the hat to DVDguy for sharing and to all the contributors. As a long time recovering nice guy, I was really struck by what 'Anonymous'said, especially her first main paragraph.

Right between the eyes, but totally right on. It's just what we need to hear and to act on.

[dvdguy]

Everyone just keep in mind, this post was not about nice guys vs. jerks and who gets the girls. It was just a little story from the past.

[leslie]

deniro started it...