Switchback once commented that every time she appears on my blog, she looks stupider. So in deference to her, I will change her name in this next story.
I have a friend. We'll call her Twitchback. When I first saw a picture of her, I thought, "She's either going to be really dorky or really cool." And she was really cool. And somewhat dorky. Just a little. (She still sings church hymns in Italian during Sacrament meeting, which I have suggested may be The Reason she's not married yet, but she doesn't seem to think so.) Twitchback lives in California where she's going to school. And Twitchback, well, has always given me the impression of being an informed woman of the world. She's got it together.
But not always, really.
I have to make a note of the fact before I proceed that Twitchback has never lived in Utah and she's never really come off as the sheltered type.
So several months ago, Twitchback and I were talking on the phone and she was telling me about a date she went on with a guy who she met through work. He was not LDS. Twitchback is LDS. As she was telling me about the date, she said that at the end of the date, she asked him if he wanted to come back to her apartment. He said yes. And then he thought about it a little and said no, actually, he should go home.
"Twitchback," I said. "You asked him back to your apartment??"
"Yes..." said Twitchback.
"Look, Twitchback. I've never not been Mormon. But from what I gather from movies and television, 'Do you want to come back to my place' means sex."
"No!" she cried.
"Yes! Sex! You invited him back to your apartment for sex! He said yes initially and then thought about it and decided not to have sex with you on your first date."
"No!"
"Yes! Look, in Mormon culture, 'Do you want to come back to my place' means brownies or cookies or some sort of refreshment. But I'm pretty sure in the real world it means sex."
Poor, poor Twitchback. She consulted other sources and found out that yes, of course, in the real world, "Do you want to come back to my place" doesn't actually mean "Let's eat brownies and watch The Princess Bride."
7 comments:
OK, so I love the capitalization of "The Reason," as if everyone's got just one, but it's huge and it's that random. (So, you're saying that if I'd quit singing tenor on hymns, I'd be married by now? Why didn't anyone tell me this?!)
Wait, didn't you already tell this story? Or was that just in an email? Either way, it's great. And it's also great that I already know Switchback is cool.
Because my shallow secret is that I generally steer clear of the people who sing the hymns during Sacrament Meeting in their mission language. Also those who sing them in ASL.
Nemesis, I think you're confusing this story with a different one about Cicada's friend "Switchback." This story, although very similar in most of the details, is about "Twitchback."
I also very much enjoyed your clever use of capitalization in "The Reason." Although I don't think that's it. I think it has more to do with the fact that she invites people to her apartment for sex on the first date. Daltonboy has made it clear to me that he would have run away fast if I had done that, even on the second date.
I tried to figure out whether or not I'd told this one already, but nothing came up. Now that you mention it, though, I think I remember which post it was in... whoops!
About The Reason, when I was visiting her in California a few weeks ago, we kept on discussing why it was that we were not married but all these random (and weird) girls from our mission had happened to find love. We actually found several Reasons that neither of us was married. Like at the beach, she noticed that I hadn't actually shaved all the way up my thighs so my baby-thin upper thigh hair was glowing in the sunlight. I noticed that she had missed a patch on her arm pit.
And then, of course, I mocked her mercilessly about singing hymns in Italian because no one should do that. Only to show my love for her, I sung the last verse of the last hymn in Italian. The lengths I go to for her!
I remember hearing this story in person several months ago, but that doesn't mean it's not just as funny the second time.
I love this story (although I have a friend that sings hymns in ASL, and I secretly hate her).
Good thing you switched my name so that no one could tell. So I think that story pretty much explains why I'm not married. Thanks for helping me realized why. Now I can spend the rest of my life in solitude, knowing that I'm not going to get married.Thanks
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