Three strikes and you get a second date.

Posted bycasey coombsPosted inToo lazy to label.

Welcome to part three in how the moosh came to be.

Part I here.

Part II here.

************

Well, now that you know about my sordid past, you should know that there is no way that Cody and I should have ever ended up together.

While he was all

missionaries

I was all

saloon

and while he was all

Cody

I was all

Beer Bong

I knew nothing about this boy except that he worked at Radio Shack, his name was Cody and he made my heart go pitter patter.

And then he showed up at my house in this.

the truck

I know right?

STRIKE ONE.

I hated big trucks. Little guy syndrome, must be compensating for something, you know the type.

After hurling myself into the beast of a truck we decided on a place to eat and the awkward chatter started.

“So, why were you in New York?”

“That’s where I served my mission.”

(Internal dialogue) MISSION? MISSION! You’re a MORMON? I don’t go out with Mormons, especially ones that just got back from missions! That means you take this whole religion thing seriously. I SHAVED FOR NOTHING!

STRIKE TWO!
(External dialogue) “Oh. Huh. Where are you from?”

“Vernal” (A small town in Eastern Utah that just happens to sound a lot like an STD)

STRIKE THREE.

At this point he was lucky I couldn’t afford to feed myself and actually needed him to take me out to dinner.

Dinner was awkward, apparently I swore a lot. I had pancakes, he had biscuits and gravy.

We then rented a movie and headed back to his apartment.

As soon as he opened his front door the first thing I saw was an ENORMOUS PICTURE OF CHRIST ABOVE HIS COUCH.

STRIKE FOUR.

What’s WITH these religious people?

Strike five was the other ENORMOUS picture of Christ praying above his tiny single bed.

This boy wanted a wife, he wanted babies, a white picket fence,  he wanted everything I wasn’t.

But then he held my hand.

If I’ve ever had butterflies in my life it was at that moment.

He didn’t try anything, he walked me to my door.

He was a perfect gentleman.

I remember shutting the door and thinking “There is no way this could ever work.”

But I couldn’t wait for him to call again.

And he did.

To be continued….

28 thoughts on “Three strikes and you get a second date.”

  1. Great story – can’t wait for it to be continued. He obviously called you right? Or did you call him?

    My husband picked me up in a pimped out pick-up truck too. As soon as we were married I made him trade it in.

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  6. Oh I love these posts. You’ve inspired me to post a little more about the early days of me and mine because I said the same thing to my best friend about him and me: “We will never go anywhere.”

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  22. Awwwe!

    And Vernal? Oooh boy. My husband lived in Vernal for awhile, right before we startd dating. I wonder if they knew each other. I mean, it’s VERNAL. If they were there at the same time, they’d HAVE to know each other, right?

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  23. If you substitute the Mormon aspect with RAGING BAPTIST BIBLE THUMPER, you pretty much have my first date with Boo.

    I still have a very large picture of Jesus, but nowadays, it’s under my bed. So I don’t have to feel guilty while I do the wild thing.

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  24. Oh this is great! I just caught up. I love all these love stories raging across the internet right now. I refuse to tell mine. It ends up with me being drug on my butt across the floor and dumped in the middle of a big mess I made while throwing a fit.

    Nope, not wanting to talk about that one just yet.

    Enjoying yours though!

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  25. You know what I just thought? Would Cody EVER be willing to guest write? I would love to hear about his feelings of you, and his version of the story…and if not, could you steal it out of his Journal? He must have still been keeping one?! Just a thought. Love this story, love it.

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