First dates: fun, weird, and sometimes downright awkward. Here’s my story. His name is Ryan, and we were going to this quirky little spoof-comedy theater. He picked me up, and we went out to eat first – all in all it was rolling along pretty typically. Until Intermission. Apparently this is the time when one of the actors comes out on the stage and solicits audience participation. I hate this sort of thing.

He starts out with, “I’d like to welcome everyone out tonight.” He then points out a group who is apparently having some sort of work party. They start hooting and hollering to indicate their presence. Then he introduces a couple in the far right corner – it’s their 30^th wedding anniversary. She’s quiet. He’s not. He introduces a few more people, and makes a few more comments that induce chuckles from the audience, and then, he says, “Okay, do we have anyone here who is on a first date?”

I’m smiling and laughing, and then I realize what he said. My heart starts to pound. We’re sitting on the first row. Is there anyway out of this…? Apparently not, Ryan’s friend starts to point in our direction. I try not to sink into my chair, or let that tell-tale red slip into my cheeks. I sip my water and try to act cool. “Is that true? Is it your first date?” I nod. There’s no point in lying. “Where’d you guys meet?” Ryan explains, which I’m grateful for, because I’m pretty sure that if I try to talk it will come out in an inaudible squeak. “All right, I’ll come back to you guys later.” I exhale in relief. Wait. What did he mean by “later”?

He goes on to explain that the organist is going to play “Let me be your sweetheart”, and at the end of the song – the anniversary couple is going to stand up, and kiss. “And then,” he says - pausing for effect, and lowering his gaze to the front row – our couples who are here on their first dates are going to stand up and do the same.”

Do the same? What - kiss? Is he serious? The song starts to play, and I’m still trying to process everything. Are we really going to do this? My thoughts are skittering around inside my head, and I can’t seem to pin them down. Do I let him kiss me on the cheek? Do we do the whole lip to lip thing?

I’m acting like an idiot - or maybe like a 13 year-old girl. But I’m not 13 – I’m an adult – so what’s the big deal?

The song is over before I’ve managed to answer any of my own questions. The couple in the back is kissing. Everyone coos.

And then suddenly, almost without movement, Ryan is standing up, with his hand reached toward me. A spotlight is illuminating his ridiculous grin.

Why is he standing up? Does he actually think I’m going to join him? This is the problem with first dates – you don’t know each other. Ryan doesn’t know that this is my worst nightmare, and that he happily led me straight to it. I doubt there will be another date.

I default to embarrassed loser. I completely forget that I was trying to be cool. I slip lower and lower into my chair and the redness creeps higher and higher across my face. My arms are folded tightly across my chest, and I’m shaking my head, first at Ryan, and then at the guy on the stage. I believe that he is a horrible human being, because he seems to think that this whole thing is hilarious. He looks over at Ryan, and with mock sympathy he says, “Sorry Man, it looks like she’s not interested.”