H - High School (Jeff)

I have written many times about how I was a nerd in school. I wasn't a complete social outcast, but I was far from being one of the "in" crowd people. However, I didn't finish school that way. By the time I graduated high school, I had completely come out of my shell, got invited to the parties and was reasonably well-liked. And I know exactly how it happened.

When I started my sophomore year, there were a few new students. There usually are. One was a guy named Jeff Caudle. Jeff was one of the sports guys. He gained popularity pretty quickly and the girls seemed to like him. Just another one of those people who is not part of my circle.

Now, I honestly don't remember how we became friends but Jeff remembers our first meeting. He claims that I approached him in the library one day and in a high nasally voice, sheepishly said, "Is your name Patrick?"

I don't believe I ever had a high nasally voice, but that's the way Jeff loves to tell the story.

Jeff only lived in Waltonville for two years, but over the course of those two years, we became tight friends. We stayed over at each other's houses, ran around together, got into trouble together and double dated.

Junior Prom - May 1988
Me (left), Jeff (right)

In fact, Jeff is the reason I went on my first date ever. He talked me into asking out a girl because it might be fun to double. Then, he pulled out to do something else.

Hanging out with one of the more popular students put me in situations I would never have found myself in. I made appearances at parties. I went to the basketball games. Being seen with Jeff gave me a little more confidence to put myself out there. And I learned that people might actually like me if I allowed them to. I stopped hiding quietly in the corner and it paid off.

Jeff moved away the summer before senior year, but I was over most of my social oddities by then. My senior year was great.

Jeff may have moved away, but we still stayed in touch. He was only two hours north, so occasionally one of us would drive to spend the weekend with the other. Over the next couple of years, I dated two of his cousins. He eventually stood as the best man for my wedding. Twice. I stood in his wedding also but his brother got the best man spot.

I lived with him and his parents for a while and he lived with me and mine. We were pretty well-entwined into each other's lives and each other's extended family. When his mother had her wisdom teeth taken out, it was me who drove her home. And when his aunt was released from the hospital after having a C-section, I picked them up from the hospital. Jeff's dad hired me to work for him one summer installing security plates on rest area vending machines around the State.

Eventually, Jeff and I were roommates in a nasty little redneck, rat-trap trailer but we had a lot of fun and threw some great parties. We also had some of our biggest fights during that time. Being friends with someone does not necessarily mean that being roommates will be a good idea. We each had some legitimate complaints about the other.

Life moved on and we saw each other a few years into each of us getting married and eventually living in different states. We still talk occasionally, but life is different now. This was one of those friendships that I tried to hold onto longer, but it is difficult to force it.

Regardless of this, I am thankful for those years we did hang out and intrude so much into each other's lives. I know those couple of years in high school definitely turned my life for the better.

Jeff, if you ever read this. I miss you, buddy.

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This month, I am participating in the A to Z Challenge. Each day this month, people around the world are writing blog posts and working their way through the alphabet. Each person decides their own personal theme. I am writing about people who have affected my life.

Culinary Adventures

I love food.

I mean, really love food. I especially like to try new foods. If a restaurant is serving something I have never had before, you can be assured that is what I will order. There is so much good food out there, I never know when I may stumble across a culinary delight that I might not have already known about.

I have never understood picky eaters. I do understand that some people don't like a lot of things. There is nothing they can do about that. I won't judge. However, the people that won't even try something new baffle me. What are they afraid of? If you don't like it, you don't like it. What's the big deal?

I am not referring to people with dietary restrictions or health concerns that restrict what they can eat. I have a friend that grew up with an extremely limited diet and after a gall bladder surgery there is very little that his body will allow him to eat. He and others like him get let off the hook. The same goes for vegetarians, the lactose intolerant and people with food allergies.

I know this is not true in all cases, but many of the people that refuse to try new things are not doing it because of taste. They just have no sense of adventure or have concluded they don't like something when they don't actually know. They've decided what they eat and do not venture from it. In high school, my friend Jeff was eating dinner with my family and was halfway through his third bowl of chili when he complimented my mother on how great it was. She thanked him and replied that she was trying to get rid of the last of the deer burger we had in the freezer and thought chili would be the way to go. Jeff turned green and set the bowl down. After spitting out what was still in his mouth, he said, "What? This is deer? I hate deer!" He then ran to the bathroom to clean out his mouth.

He had already eaten three bowls and even commented on how good it was. How could he honestly say he didn't like it? However, he maintained his stance when he came back. It was hard to take him seriously.

Kirsten has a friend that has spent the night many times. On several occasions, she has walked into the kitchen as I am making dinner to ask what we're having.

"I'm making a tuna casserole."

"Oh, I don't like tuna!"

"I'm sorry. Did I say tuna? I meant chicken casserole."

I would then continue to make the tuna casserole. The great thing about this kid is I would tell her the truth halfway through the meal and she would admit "I guess I like tuna now." Good girl. 

She has eaten lots of things at my house that she claimed she didn't like. One time, after showing her disgust for something in her own home, her dad asked her why she is so picky at home when she will eat anything at my house. She answered, "Well, it's probably because Brett lies a lot." I can't deny the truth of that statement.

Any guest in my house quickly learns that I will not fix a special meal for them. They are more than welcome to share a meal with us, but they can eat what we are eating. The same rule applies to children. I raised mine that way. No child will starve himself. If my children refused to eat something, I didn't force them. However, they would not be allowed a bite of anything else until they ate what was served. Even if it took two days. They weren't picky for long and today are very adventurous eaters.

On the few trips I've made out of the country, I've been part of a group and could never understand why they would vote to go to McDonald's or Taco Bell when it came time to eat. Why would you want to eat something that you can get back home? We're in a foreign land. Let's try something local. Let's experience what this country has to offer. Of course, these are usually the same people that want to hit the local mall rather than see the sites and experience the culture.

As for myself, I will eat anything that is considered food. I would never expect people to eat some of the things that I have eaten, but anyone who says they are hungry and then turns their nose up at a plate of food doesn't have any concept of what hungry actually means. However, if you would like to have an eating adventure, accompany me into the city to find something new. This is a favorite activity of my daughter and myself. On our last outing, we ate uncooked quail eggs right out of the shell and raw eel. We weren't impressed by the eggs, but the eel was amazing.

Believe it or not, I have eaten 
something very similar to this.

I have eaten octopus on many occasions and sometimes it is raw (which is the best way to eat it). Once, like the picture above, it was still alive. The one I had was much larger.

I have eaten bear, iguana, elk, shark, moose, ostrich, earthworms, emu, dog, rattlesnake, rat, crocodile, various insects, rabbit, frog, squid, guinea pig, caterpillar, crawdads, squirrel, horse, tarantula, raccoon, dolphin, alligator, opossum, and even skunk. I've tried hundreds of different exotic fruits, vegetables, roots, and flowers that I had never even heard of until they were in front of me. Some of these I sought out, others were eaten because the opportunity presented itself. I didn't like all of them, but I never refuse to eat something. Even if I don't like it, I will finish what is served to me. You will never see me spit out food.

The DURIAN.
Banned in many public places due to the smell.

I have several specific foods on my list that I would like to try. I want to eat a durian. I have heard it described as tasting like a soggy onion. It doesn't sound good, but I know no one who has eaten one. I just have to.

I also want to eat the Japanese dish fugu. It must be prepared by highly specialized chefs who are trained to properly remove the neurotoxins of the puffer fish so as not to kill the consumer. Although, I may wait until I am highly advanced in years before I try this one.

I have a friend who has invited me over to eat balut as soon as we can find a way to get around the Illinois state shipping laws. I will not describe this dish here, but you can click its name if you're curious.

I don't expect everyone to be this adventurous, but there is so much good food that goes beyond the American standard of meat and potatoes. Try something new every now and then. You never know when you might stumble upon your next favorite.

My First Date: The Date

This post is part two of the story of my first date. Click here for the first part of the story. I don't want anyone to be lost.

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After almost a week of mental anguish and dozens of trips to the bathroom to puke my guts out, I had successfully asked a girl out for the first time. Since this was the first girl I had ever asked on a date, I should have developed a sense of confidence in my 100% success rate. However, I wasn't looking at it this way. I had accomplished the asking part, but now had to spend an entire evening with her. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. I was no less anxious than before I had called her.

What are we supposed to talk about?

After spending hours trying to decide what to wear and trying not to insult my mother as I explained that I could not possibly eat anything due to my nervous stomach, I started the drive to her house. Every possible date disaster flashed through my mind as I got closer. What if I puke on her as soon as she comes to the door? What if we have nothing to talk about? What if the night goes well and she wants a kiss at the end of the night? I've never kissed anyone. I don't know how to do that!

I pulled up to her house and suddenly felt even more self-conscious. I mentioned in the last post that her father was a doctor. She lived in a huge house with a large, beautifully manicured lawn. What would she think about the way I was dressed? Would she be embarrassed to ride in my rust bucket of a car? It was too late to consider such things now.

I knocked on the door and was invited in by the woman that answered. She was obviously too young to be Jennifer's mother. Was this their maid? Rich people have maids, right? I introduced myself and told her I was there to pick up Jennifer. The woman gave me a confused look.

POSSIBLE MAID: I didn't know Jennifer was going out tonight.

ME: I was supposed to pick her up at seven.

She left to go get Jennifer and I sat on the couch trying to decide what I would say when Jennifer came down. Over fifteen minutes passed before the woman returned.

POSSIBLE MAID: What was your name again?

ME: Brett

She thanked me and went back upstairs. What was that? Why is this taking so long? Has she changed her mind? Does she really not know who I am? By the time she came back down, I had been there for over thirty minutes worrying that I was leaving a nervous sweat stain on their couch.

POSSIBLE MAID: Jennifer asks if you could come back at 8:30?

I agreed and went back to my car. I drove around town for the next hour trying to figure out what just happened. In that hour, time seemed to stand still. I didn't know if 8:30 would ever come around, but eventually it did and I went back to her house.

As soon as I got out of my car, she came bouncing out the door.

JENNIFER: Sorry I wasn't ready earlier. I thought this was a joke. I didn't realize it was really you and didn't think you were coming.

I opened the car door for her and she asked if I wanted to go to the Loiterers' Club, a local club for teens. I agreed since that was the first time that I had even considered what we were going to do. Remember, this was all new territory for me. At that moment, I had already made more progress with a girl than ever before.

On the way to the club, I was relieved that the small talk was happening without much effort. She was pretty easy to talk to. This date might actually happen without me committing social suicide.

It turned out that she wanted to go to the Loiterers' Club because she was already planning to meet her friends there. She made a quick introduction and said she wanted to dance. I am not much of a dancer, but followed her to the dance floor and danced with her and all of her friends. After several dances, one of her friends noticed that a booth had just opened up. She took my hand a started toward the empty seats.

Let me repeat that. She took my hand...

A girl was holding my hand! I knew this didn't mean anything, but I was suddenly on top of the world. It was this moment that I repeated to one of my friends the next day. She held my hand!

Now I had gone even further with a girl. This night was great!

The rest of the night went without incident. We danced some more. We talked and visited with her friends. There was lots of laughter and the night went really well. When I took her back home, she even said, "I had fun. Let's do this again."

I drove home floating on a cloud. I had just spent an entire evening with a girl. I hadn't embarrassed myself. She seemed to like me. Her friends liked me. The night could not have gone any better.

The next morning I saw a few of my friends who wanted to know how the night went. I told them how great it was and couldn't wait to see her again. They offered me their congratulations and did a little of the obligatory teasing that guys have to do.

Later that afternoon, I had to go into work. One of my coworkers said that he heard I had gone out with Jennifer the night before. He was one of her friends from school and asked me a bunch of questions. He wanted to know where we went. Did I meet so-and-so? What did we do afterwards? He seemed genuinely interested and I was happy to answer them.

However, his last question threw me. I don't remember exactly how he worded it, but he basically asked if I got lucky before dropping her off.

I just stared at him not sure what to say. I hadn't even kissed her. No, I hadn't gotten lucky. I hadn't even tried anything. I didn't even think of trying anything. It was the first date I had ever been on with anybody. Sex was not anything that I had even thought about. Having just stepped into the dating world, I wasn't yet accustomed to this aspect of the male 'locker room' talk. After a few uncomfortable seconds of stunned silence, he raised his eyebrows and said, "Well?"

I felt my face get red as I got angry. I shot him a dirty look, clocked out, and stormed out of the restaurant. After a few minutes, I forgot about the conversation.

When I got home, I called Jennifer to see when she would want to go out again. Hopefully, she would be free that night.

JENNIFER: (angry shouting) No, I don't want to go out. I don't ever want to see you again.

ME: (confused) What?  I thought we had a good time?

JENNIFER: I did, but then you told Rob you slept with me!

ME: No, no, no. I did not!

JENNIFER: No, you didn't actually say it, but I heard all about it. He asked and you gave him an 'I got lucky' smirk and pranced out of the room smiling!

She slammed the phone down. I sat there stunned for several minutes. What just happened? Do I call her back and explain? Would she even believe me? Should I go kill Rob? Why didn't I give him an emphatic 'NO'? Did he misunderstand or just lie? I really wasn't trying to give that impression! How do I fix this?

I mulled this over in my mind and finally decided to just let it go. It wouldn't matter what I said, Rob would stick to his story. Plus, now that the thought was in her mind, she would always wonder how it really went down. I resolved to be single once again.

Monday morning, I saw Jeff at school.

JEFF: Hey, did you go out with that girl Friday night?

ME: Yeah, I did.

JEFF: Cool. Let's double this weekend.

I shoved him into the bushes.

My First Date: The Call

Eight months ago began my very public online courtship with Red of Doesn't Speak Klingon. Some of you (my readers) have been reading long enough to have seen this develop from the beginning. For those of you that came in late, click here for a recap of all the posts that showcase our budding romance.

Being online and not actually face to face played very heavily into why we hit it off with each other. In the non-virtual world, I am not what would be called a 'player.' I have never had a way with the ladies. Of the women I have dated, in most cases I never even asked them out. We would end up together because, due to some life circumstance, we spent a considerable amount of time together, grew to have a mutual affection for each other, and just found ourselves together. On the rare occasions that I actually did ask a girl out, it was only after I was confident that she already liked me and would say yes.

This is in stark contrast to me proposing marriage to Red when we had hardly even conversed online. YES, I was flirting. YES, I was being bold, but she lived all the way in Delaware and we had all of cyberspace between us. It was a pretty safe environment. In the real world, I behave much differently.

I am not a shy person. I can talk with anyone and enjoy making people laugh. I wouldn't be afraid to talk to a woman, but to openly flirt or ask out just wouldn't happen. If we go a little further back in time, I wasn't even able to talk to them. I didn't have a girlfriend or even go on my first date until I was a junior in high school and nothing that happened that night gave me any confidence to make dealing with women any easier in the future.

In high school, I was friends with a guy named Jeff that didn't have trouble talking to women. While I was the nerdiest guy in the school, Jeff was Mr. Popular. He was friends with everyone, was on the basketball team, and had dated more girls in the year I had known him than I had even talked to in my entire life.

While hanging out one Friday night, he suggested we double date the following weekend. I don't know why he made this suggestion. Even more, I don't know why I agreed, but I did. I was sixteen years old and had never been on a date or had a real girlfriend ever. There had been girls I liked, but I just admired them from afar. I left his house not knowing what I was going to do, but was determined that I could do this.

There was a girl at school who I had a crush on, but couldn't wrap my head around actually talking to her. She was out of the question, so I had to think of someone else. After days of mental anguish, I remembered someone who might work.

When I was in junior high, there was a girl that used to come to church with another family. I had been told that she liked me, but I thought she was pretty strange and I would never have pursued it even if she was 'normal'. It just wasn't in me. However, now was a different situation and I refused to be the guy that couldn't get a date. She liked me once before. She was my best shot at getting a 'yes'.

It had been three years since she had this crush on me and I hadn't seen her since then, but I remembered her name. This was before the days of Facebook or even the Internet, so I pulled out a phone book and looked her up. The only listing with that name was for a doctor and I had no idea if he had any daughters.

Before I could even fathom the idea of asking this girl out, I had to find out if this would be the right number. I summoned up all my courage and dialed. A woman answered the phone and I asked if Jennifer was home. She said, "Just a minute" and called for Jennifer. I immediately felt my heart try to jump out of my chest and hung up the phone. At least, I had the right house.

I knew I couldn't call right back, because she might know it was me. I had to let some time pass. I waited three days before trying again. I probably would have put it off longer, but it was now Thursday and we were supposed to go out on Friday. I couldn't put this off any longer.

I picked up the phone and dialed. As the phone started to ring, the self-doubt and panic began to set in.

What if she has a boyfriend? I have nothing to go on.

Will she even remember me? I couldn't remember having ever actually talked to her.

Oh, wait! What if she says no? I hadn't really considered this until now. If she says no, I will have less than 24 hours to come up with a date.

VOICE ON PHONE: "Hello"

ME: "Uh…hello. Is, um, Jennifer home?"

VOICE: "Who's calling?"

ME: "Brett"

As she left to get Jennifer, I could feel my courage start to falter. I was in unknown territory and way over my head. I knew it and was convinced she would know it as soon as she got on the phone. I had just decided to give up and tell Jeff I was a loser when she picked up the line.

JENNIFER: (excited) "Hey, Brad, what's going on?"

ME: "This isn't Brad. It's Brett."

JENNIFER: "Brett who?"

I knew it. She has no idea who I am.

ME: "Brett…Brett Minor."

Even after telling her my name, she still wasn't sure who I was. I had to explain that we met at church a few years ago before it jogged her memory. However, even then I wasn't convinced that she actually remembered. I believe she was just trying not to be rude.

After several failed attempts at catching up (my poor excuse for small talk, but we had never really known each other), I finally managed to get the words out. There was no turning back. I had asked her out for the following night.

Without hesitation, she agreed.

At that moment, I was at a total loss for words. I had put so much thought and concentration into the asking part, I hadn't even considered what I was supposed to say afterward. After several awkward seconds of silence, she spoke up. "Pick me up tomorrow at seven."

We said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. It occurred to me that Jeff and I had never discussed a time or where we would be going, but none of that mattered because I HAD A DATE!!!  I had actually pulled this off.

I called Jeff to gloat tell him I had a date and needed to know what time we were to meet up.

JEFF: "Sorry, man. I forgot about all about that. We're going out of town this weekend. I can't go."

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This post has gotten long enough. I will conclude this story in my next post. For now, I will only reveal that I did show up at her house the following night.

TO BE CONTINUED…