Some time in late December or early January (or something like that), the Rebellion Editors-in-Chief approached Rebellion staff writers about going on– and subsequently reporting on– a date, for the Valentine’s Day issue of the Rebellion. Most writers balked at the idea, but not this writer: I accepted the challenge gladly. Maybe I thought I could write a funny article, maybe I just wanted to go on a date for the first time since sophomore year– don’t judge me. Regardless of the reason, I volunteered for the date, so I guess all the weirdness that followed was my own fault…
First off, actually getting the date set up was no small feat. There was back-room deliberation aplenty, about which of the girls in this school would be fortunate (or unfortunate) enough to go on a date with me, where we should go, when it should happen. Miss Christina Freiberger was able to find a friend who gave a reluctant “Okay” to the date, with the stipulation that Christina also attend. So, we turned the evening into a double-date; no problems there. For a location, I suggested the Olive Garden, since a friend of mine once said, “It’s the best friggin’ casual date restaurant ever”. And, with the Who and the Where set, the When just fell into place.
The only problem was that, in the week before the date night, I’d, er, lost track of my cell phone. This, combined with the fact that I never go on Facebook except to put Dylan lyrics as my status or check my Farmville, reaching me for any and all details regarding the date was… well, it wasn’t easy. Plus, I have a tendency to lose track of time. Long story short, my friend got a call on the night of the date, from a very angry Christina, who had already called my house and had a very awkward conversation with my mom about my whereabouts. The whereabouts in question were a McDonalds in Dedham, which just happened to be 35 minutes from where the date was to be held. Oops.
But, by breaking several traffic laws, I was able to get to Patriots Place in what very well could’ve been record time, and I was soon outside Qdoba. Oh, yeah, Olive Garden was somehow downgraded to Qdoba while I was en route. I was indifferent, however, having enjoyed a gourmet meal at McDonalds before doing 90 down Route 1 (I don’t recommend it, unless you’re a fan of nausea). Anyway, once at Patriots Place, I sprinted up several flights of stairs (more nausea), and, finally, I was there.
Maybe it was just in contrast to the tribulations I’d just experienced, maybe it was that the setting and circumstances brought with them minimal pressure, but I had a much better time than I’d thought I was going to. In Qdoba, topics of discussion varied from the ridiculousness of the 70’s easy listening music that was playing to difficulty of certain classes to the certain personality quirks of our peers. Conversation flowed easily, and we laughed quite a bit (mostly at the expense of teachers and classmates; names will not be named). It wasn’t actually a date by any means, but, I’m thankful for that, because, if it had been, it wouldn’t have been nearly as entertaining. Also, if there hadn’t been a class credit involved in the evening, I think they would’ve given up after they heard “McDonalds in Dedham”.
After the date, we parted ways. Though I’d ventured to invite my three dinner companions to a party, they declined, their reactions ranging from “Umm… Er…” to “I think, um, I don’t know” to my personal favorite, Christina’s I’m-going-to-pretend-I-didn’t-hear-you-and-I’m-going-to-keep-walking reaction. Hey, I was just trying to be nice. Regardless, the dinner was fun. And so was the party I went to, Christina!
I can’t help but wonder, however, what the significance of this entire evening is for high school dating. Can a guy like me, who can’t even hold onto a phone, get a real date? Or maybe I should ask, instead: with the circumstances surrounding the fake date as bizarre and out-of-whack as they were, are real dates even possible? Is boy-girl interaction limited to complaints about English classes in fast-food restaurants? And, with the “my-friends-are-set-in-stone-and-I-won’t-interact-with-people-outside-of-my-social-standings” mentality, can students expand their horizons enough to meet people with whom they have meaningful connections? They answer to all of these, I feel, is no. I apologize for editorializing this news feature, but I have to get across one point: high school romance is just short of a fallacy. While relationships might exist in short supply, the majority of us have to deal with the fact that college acceptance and social drama and afterschool activities and finding out one’s vocation take priority over dating and, well, real interpersonal relationships, especially with members of the opposite sex. But, honestly, I’m okay with that fact. The evening was really, really fun. Screw romance, and screw Valentine’s Day. I just want to have a good time.
