What went wrong?
Uhm, what went right?
First of all, he was called Bear. Secondly, my brother, Michael had decided to set us up. There was also his size, his face, and his Hawaiian shirt. Then there was the unfortunate dancing to follow. Oh, and he smoked.
While we went out with a crew of people including a combination of our sister, Chris, her friends, Mike's friends, and my friends, somehow I ended up forgetting my coat with my keys at a bar. This lead to my ending up riding with Mike instead of my girlfriends meaning I was heading off to Simpson College in Indianola, IA to deliver his buddies back to school instead of going home.
Yeah, and most all of them were drunk, AND Mike was driving a stick shift (something I can't drive). I do recall his one friend kept trying to convince him to drop me off at home. He was having NO part of it.
Upon arriving at whatever nameless dorm it was and just shoving people out of the car, apparently talking and peeing had to happen. Oh yeah, AND IT WAS WINTER (this comes up later). At some point I actually had to use the toilet so I left Mike in the "great room." Upon return, I discovered that he was PASSED OUT (Note to the kids in the audience: NEVER EVER get into a car with someone who has been drinking too much).
There was no waking him up. According to Bear, there was no girls hanging around the great room at night. So I pinned a note on my snoring brother (whom I wanted to smack hard in the head) and ended up in Bear's room.
It's hard to maintain conversation with someone you don't know, don't care to know, and seems as dumb as a box of hammers. Despite my calling home to see if SOMEONE would pick me up, that wasn't going to happen either. I actually think my dad laughed (Bastard!). He pointed out that we'd be home soon or he'd come get me after his morning coffee.
So Bear and I stared at each other some more. Eventually he pointed out that we could probably sleep. I considered the car, but the temperature was below 20 so that didn't seem sage. Also, there was only one bed. I offered to take the floor. Sigh. He was uncomfortable with that so I climbed into the bed. At that point he asked if he could lay in his bed too. We were both HUGE people. It was a tiny bed. I'm surprised it didn't collapse under our combined tonage. But it didn't.
Bear did point out that I could take off my coat (NO! That's what got me there in the first place!) or even my shoes (OK…). He tried to snuggle, only to have me pointedly state that I couldn't SLEEP if he was touching me AT ALL. I'm sure he tried to kiss me. YUCK!
Eventually, round about 4 in the morning Mike showed up ready to drive home thinking it was the FUNNIEST thing EVER. I think the folks did too.
For me, it was a trauma which did not endear me to the idea of dating (not that I was ever asked). My only consolation is that I'm pretty sure it was Bear's worst date ever as well.
Misery enjoys company, you know.
Lessons learned: learn to drive a stick, leave your coat no matter what, and go home with your friends even if it means waking your parents in the middle of the night. All much preferable to sleeping with a stranger named Bear.