Worst Date Ever

Sometimes, even the most wonderful date can turn into a case of identity theft. I know, because I’m speaking from experience. 

After one particular guy and I met at the university we were attending, we became close. We not only felt that our relationship could possibly lead to marriage, but we also had become good companions.

Like other couples, we liked going out for pizza or bowling, and going to movies together with our friends, but we also enjoyed nature, so often just the two of us went to secluded, natural settings. We picked wild blueberries and skipped stones across the lake. At night we leaned back atop the hood of his car to watch panoramic lightning “shows,” or an occasional meteor shower. We even viewed planets through his telescope.

Early one evening, we went to a park down by Lake Superior, where a Leif Erickson ship is on display. The sun hadn’t quite set when we got there, so like all the nearby couples and families, we strolled around and talked. As darkness fell, we sat on the ground to relax, propping our backs against a tree for support. There wasn’t any hanky-panky involved. We truly just wanted to enjoy the fresh air, gaze at the stars, talk and be together, away from the hustle-bustle of the city. We weren’t completely secluded. Other people were doing the same. I put my purse on the ground alongside me, and we kept on chatting.

In those days I had a curfew. My mother, grandparents and I all lived in the same house, and they expected me home by a specific time. Lulled by the park’s atmosphere, I had forgotten to check my watch. When I did, panic set in—if we didn’t get out of there pronto, I’d be late! (Although my grandmother was elderly, she was my legal guardian and she was in great shape. In cases like this, she tended to get physical!)