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Part XII - Sunday's Psycho
Friday evening had seen me officially score my first two dates ever, one with the girl of my dreams, and the other with what would become the hideous spectre of nightmarish agony.
The warm summer Sunday morning passed by without incident, and the family headed off to the afternoon church services. After the services, it was our family's custom to assemble from our various separate Sunday School classes at one of the exits, decide who would be staying for the choir practice, and proceed from there.
For 14 years, our rendez-vous point had been in the same spot. 14 years leading to my doom, as our spot happened to be right outside the classroom for the young women. Thus, it was inevitable that Emily emerged from her class to find Laura and I chatting and waiting for our parents.
We made polite conversation with Emily, then her sister came up. The exact details of the conversation are lost in the depths of my pysche, but I know that the tension in the air escalated. When Emily mentioned that her family's car was out in the parking lot, we politely volunteered to escort them thereto.
We exited the church and began the walk across the parking lot. The events that followed happened in quick succession and took me more or less by surprise, so I admit that I may have the order a bit flawed. But here goes:
1) Emily complimented me on my tie.
2) Emily reached over and took my tie to apparently feel the silk (like it's any different than the 15.2 million other silk ties on this planet)
3) Emily began doing the "Necktie Walk Up." You know, where they grab one hand after the other up the tie until they get to the knot? I don't know about other people, but I thought that every time they do this in movies, it's the cue for the Bow-Chicka-Wow-Wow music to start, if you know what I mean.
4) Flustered, I pulled my tie from her grasp and tried to laugh it off.
5) She complimented me on my class ring (which had perhaps caught her attention as I was fighting her off in #4.)
6) She asked to see my class ring.
7) I let her see my class ring.
8) She put my class ring on her left annular digit.
9) She proclaimed to my sister, "Look Laura, we're married. Tee Hee!"
10) I laughed the "Mildly Amused but Not Really" laugh and indicated for her to return my ring, which she did, since we had now arrived at her car.
Okay, at this point I was REALLY looking forward to sitting in the bass section with a bunch of paunchy old men instead of being where I was. Honest. So Laura and I bid Emily and Sister adieu with the reason that choir was to start posthaste!
Emily offered to walk us back to the church building.
???????
I will pause right here for you to look back a few paragraphs and verify what you are thinking...
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Yes that's right, we walked her to her car, only to have her offer to walk us back to where we started. Something smelled fishy, and the Swedish Chef was nowhere to be found!
In His divine wisdom, God created Precipitation. And so it was that fortune smiled upon me, and the cloudy Verbraskashire skies erupted into a short cloudburst. Being devoid of umbrella or any other such implement as would facilitate gentlemanly conduct of protecting a nearby woman's hairdo or flowery dress, I did what any self-respecting almost-17-year-old would do when presented with this situation.
I ran.
Not the kind of "Ok Clark, gotta pace yourself for this 8 mile training run" kind of running I do today. No. More the kind of "Run Run, Fast as I Can, You Can't Catch Me, I'm the Gingerbread Man" running.
I bolted straight for the safety of higher ground and a roof. Unfortunately, my fleetness proved to fit right in with Emily's nefarious conniving. Upon reaching the church with Laura, Emily said goodbye and headed back to her car. As Laura and I navigated the still-busy halls of the church building to get to the choir room, she revealed that Emily had told her to tell me to bring flowers Wednesday night.
FLOWERS???
*counts on fingers*
**6** times in my 23 years of living have I found it appropriate to give a girl flowers in any time of courting/dating situation. In all but ONE of those settings, I was wearing a TUXEDO and we were going to a FORMAL DANCE! That exception was Valentine's Day 2000, when after 7 dates with a girl, I sent her 2 dozen roses, and was promptly dumped within the week. But I digress.
FLOWERS???
Sorry, nuh uh. No soup for you! This Endeavor was looking more and more likely to end up like the Challenger...
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