I want to preface this* with the following: This is 100% completely factual with actual names, because f*ck that guy.

If we can’t laugh about the dumb stuff that happens…

*Originally appeared on Livejournal in 2006. Edited for clarity and to add a Where Is He Now? update.

The worst date of my life happened while living in the Jell-O Belt (Boise, Idaho south to Queen’s Creek, Arizona).  I was in college in Utah at the time.

Me [on the right] with my beautiful roommate from Japan, Junko, being treated with an invite to an Asian Club shindig.

Me [on the right] with my beautiful roommate from Japan, Junko, being treated with an invite to an Asian Club shindig, because she was awesome.

Oh, did I crush on this boy. Where did I first see him? A church dance, of course, as that was the main activity allowed Mormon youth, aside from praying and underlining  scriptures. This guy was a really good dancer, which was a plus since that’s all we ever did in groups aside from the previously mentioned activities. He’d just come home from his LDS mission to Korea and was full of goodness and truth and righteousness and all the things a good Mormon girl is supposed to want in a man, and he seemed interested in me, another plus. (Not many were.)

I literally have written in my college journal that he was “such a stud” and that “the Spirit is so strong with him”. In case you weren’t sure if I was cool in college, that should be your answer.

One night when I was at work, a bowling alley’s fry cook, he passed my car in the parking lot on his way home. He happened to notice one of my tires going flat, so he drove home on his motorcycle, brought an air compressor back, and fixed my tire. He was chivalrous, too! You noticed the bit about the motorcycle? Totally hot, right? Right.

He always came to my Sunday school class when I was teaching [being a Sunday school teacher in a college ward–Mormon for parish–is like being Vice-President of Kappa Kappa Gamma]. There were two classes concurrently, so that was a Big Deal, especially as his sister told me that he talked about me to his mom. That’s practically getting to Mormon third base. We had a night where we went to a dance club, then spent the whole night talking until 5am in the parking lot of my dorm. Clearly things were going to happen with this guy, was my thinking.

I offered to cook him an authentic Korean dinner, and then we could watch a video in my dorm room. [Translation: we can maybe kiss, and you can check out my mad home ec. skills.] He’s a go, and I started getting ready for the date. He called me early in the afternoon to tell me how he’d been thinking of me all day, talking about me to his co-workers, couldn’t wait until tonight. Awesome. An hour after that he calls and says his best friend Randy just got home from his mission, but will only be in town for 24 hours. Not awesome.

I offer to reschedule, but he still wants to see me. He asks if he can instead bring his friend along. Well, at least the food won’t go to waste? Weird, but maybe this is a Utah Mormon thing, where I need to be vetted by the BFF?

Date time comes around and at my door is my cute, funny, holy and righteous guy. And another guy behind him. And… another girl? My initial thought (reasonably) was that my date found a date for his buddy Randy, which is terrific! Because I was a charitable sort, I didn’t mind that we wouldn’t have enough food for all of us, and I was very friendly with this girl who was surly and unhappy and visibly  uncomfortable being there, you know, in my dorm room. With three other people.

After we ate (I didn’t) and after trying to get this girl to talk (she won’t) and trying to warm up the buddy to this girl (he wouldn’t), I offer for my date and I to go down and pick out a movie from the Common Room. Mike says that I should go with Randy instead and that he’d stay behind. My thought at this time was how the girl and the buddy weren’t getting along–she was clearly having a terrible night–so Mike was being graceful about the awkward situation, maybe trying to orchestrate an exit for her. I get it. I can help a sister out. I wouldn’t want to be stuck with Randy, either.

Well, I’m about to be… no. I’m getting ahead of myself. Movie picking, because this was the time of VHS tapes and Dorm Moms with check-out clipboards.

Randy and I leave my dorm and first off, the guy’s a cheesy ’90’s club dude with a slicked back ponytail and a shiny shirt with a bold print. Ew. That is not a Celestial manner of dressing, people. (Note: this should have been my clue that he did NOT just get back from an LDS mission, too. I can admit I only had eyes for Mike, and a healthy side-eye for Unhappy Girl). Randy is also a total schmoozer.

He sidles up to me and says in what I imagine he thought sounded sexy: “I don’t know why Mike is dating Eve when he could be with someone as fun as you.”

Did you also just hear a needle scratch along a record? HEY ME, TOO.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Yeah,” Randy says, giving me elevator eyes. “Mike’s dating her. Weird, huh?”


He brought a date to the date. He brought a date (Eve) on his date (with me) and another date (Randy) for his original date (again, that was me). When I figured out that Mike was actually with her and not with me on my date and was in my home and eating my food, I reasonably flipped my lid and sent everyone away in a huff. And the just-in-town buddy still tried to hit on me, hoping for a good night kiss, a number, something.

Yeah, that’s not happening, Shiny Shirt.

Note to anyone just starting off dating: You don’t bring a date to the date. Now, I’m not a lawyer, but I do believe that contractually speaking, the person with whom you’re on the date is providing that service.

And I thought that I’d mention for those curious that the current divorce rate in Utah is 4.3 per 1,000, slightly higher than the United States divorce rate of 4.1 per 1,000 according to a 2006 report by the Center for Health Data, Office of Vital Records and Statistics. I’m just saying.

And to Mike Blunck, if you’re reading this: You’re a jerk, I was more interesting and funnier than that just about everyone in that ridiculous town, and I bet you’re prematurely bald and have ED. Which you deserve.

~~~~Wavy Lines Of Time Travel~~~~

In the fun Where Are They Now? segment of this post, I have since learned that Mike went back to his beloved Korea (because let’s face it: Korea is gorgeous and awesome) and became a SOAP OPERA ACTOR playing a celibate monk on a little show (ha) called Assorted Gems/Jewelry Bibimbop. I’m happy to report that he is bald and a professional skimboarder.*


*Don’t even give me crap. The boy brought a date TO THE DATE and had me FEED HER. Eve, I’ve since matured, and I’m sure you’re a great person inside. I’m sorry I made fun (in my head) of your clothes being dirty.

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