The first relationship to come to mind was with my high school boyfriend. We'll call him "Mark." He was a Junior, I was a Sophomore, and we met on my first day of cashiering at a local department store. He had walked right up to me- chased me down in fact as I was exiting the store. He asked me out on a date. I found this peculiar because I had never seen him before, we had never spoken, we didn't have mutual friends, and we had not even worked together during my shift. I had heard about this happening to other girls- the whole "I saw you across a crowded room," but had never experienced it personally. My life seemed far too sarcastic for that.
It had started out with rides home from work, then rides from and to school, and then eventually dinner dates. At this point it had completely escaped me that the rumor floating around work was that he had dumped some other cashier for me, and hadn't bothered to tell either of us. Out of the clear blue this taller, slightly thinner, version of myself had approached me to say she was quitting cashiering, was cool with me seeing Mark, and wanted to end all the nonsense. Nonsense, I had been completely unaware was happening. When I asked Mark about it he painted the picture that she had a crush on him and was never more than a friend.
We became hot and heavy (pun intended) as I can think of no better way to describe my chubby love affair with this tall, dark, slender, and very smart guy. I was sixteen and it was my first real relationship. We went to school together, worked together, and spent every spare moment together that we could. We made-out constantly. In the car, at the park, after work, after school...LOL...ahhh...the good ole' days. His friends seemed to approve, not that this was a tough crowd to win over, and though my family was less than enthused, I think they were just happy that I had picked a relatively trouble-free, geeky, math student.
The first time I met Mark's parents I received less than a warm reception. His father showed his disapproval immediately, and his mother would barely lift her head out of her book to acknowledge me. I wasn't quite sure if I was reading this correctly, as I had very little experience meeting boyfriends' parents, but everyone had always liked me- school teachers, clergy, family, neighbors, friend's parents. I was at a loss as to how you could dislike someone you just met? Mark didn't seem at all concerned, in fact, maybe even a little used to it, so I shrugged it off thinking to myself, "I'll win them over." But I never did. Their disdain for me grew at an alarming rate. I was never invited for dinner. I never felt welcomed. And despite all the nice things I did for their son, they never bothered to throw out the welcome mat.
I had nearly lost hope when Mark told me they had invited me on a day trip. I was hesitant, but Mark insisted it was his father's idea. Finally this was my chance. They had agreed to spend some time getting to know me. I shopped for the perfect outfit. I planned in advance my conversation, and had even pre-prepared a heartfelt thank-you to let them know how grateful I was to be included in their plans. I had woken up extra early to make sure my hair was perfect and my make-up was just right. The phone rang and my heart sank. His dad had cancelled the trip. I begged Mark for an explanation. Are you ready...?? His dad had hemorrhoids. This stuff is too real for even me to make up!
We never got another chance to go on that day trip. I assume because his father simply did not want to. As a result the tension continued to mount. It reached an all-time high when his parents, who could not convince him to see other people, had invited a foreign exchange student into their house. They had forced him to cancel plans with me and show her around instead. It was just like that scene from the movie Sixteen Candles where Molly Ringwald gets stuck taking Long Duck Dong to her high school dance, except for one thing. He slept with her.
TO BE CONTINUED...
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