i remember one night
driving home from an fhe activity at our bishop-brics house. my roommate Ashley was in the car and she would
not stop talking about him. she’d been talking about him the last few
months—ever since the semester change and the radical family swap. not only were they now fhe siblings, but they
also had some intense Russian novel class (sounds like a party right?) and
while they agreed that Russian novels should be the highlight of every single
and attractive college kids life, they disagreed on EVERYTHING else. Ashley loved to come home from class and say “ohmyword.
youwon’tbelievewhatandrewsaidinclasstoday.”
needless to say, her
talking about him in the car wasn’t really a shock to anyone.
until she said “kassie.
you have to date him.”
uhm. what?? date this
crazy boy who loves reading seventy-thousand page novels written a hundred
years ago by old Russian men with crazy eyes and gianormous beards. yeah. okay Ashley.
“no, but seriously you
should”
perhaps this ridiculous
idea of hers was sparked by the conversation i had during fhe with the
russianlovingboy himself. it went
something like this:
him “i heard a rumor
that you like to go clubbing”
me “why, yes. i may have
started said rumor”
him “we HAVE to go. i’m
underage and need someone to sneak me in and teach me how to sketchy dance on
tables and stages and swing from the ceiling to the beat of classic 80’s dance
tunes”
me “yes. salt lake. area
51. let me teach you my young padwan”
**hard-core dance moves
demonstration in the hallway of brother Vs house**
did i mention this was
just minutes after he single-handedly volunteered me to give a talk in church
the week after?
so it was a check one i.hate.you.box
and a check one okay.maybe.you.think.i.do.cool.things.like.80s.clubbing.we.can.start.to.think.about.becoming.friends.box
kind of night.
but i digress. back to
ashley’s comment
“dear Ashley. i just
want to sketchydance with this boy. not datedance him”
conversation settled.
until a few weeks later
when perhaps i found myself not only wanting to datedance this boy, but
ACTUALLY datedancing this boy. oops.
but.
that’s an entirely different story.
