The Wreckages Of Romance Road
My first loves were the Walt Disney women who were upright animals.
Disney taught me that if I see long eyelashes on a fox, a lion, or a rabbit, I’ll hunt for loopholes in the Bible so we can be together.
Unfortunately, there are no loopholes in Disney. It’s rabbit on rabbit, fox on fox, and so forth. The closest they get is having Belle fall in love with a buffalo in pants.
Even then, the two wait until he sheds his furry suit before they visit each other’s EPCOT Centers.
I met a girl at a basketball game in 7th grade.
Her name was Amy. She was a friend of some friends of mine. I asked Amy if she wanted to go to the movies with me and our mutual pals. She paused. We hadn’t even held hands, yet the pause was pregnant.
When she finally said “Sure,” she didn’t sound sure. But people rarely have control over the tone of their voice. For example, when I said, “Really? Thank you!” I yelled it in her face.
The evening of the date, I met my friends at the movies, and there was this additional girl with them I’d never seen before. She was looking at me as if she knew me.
“Are you Dan?” she said.
Then she said, “Sorry I’m not Amy.”
That’s when I learned Amy had sent a representative, a pinch hitter. That’s when I learned this is something you can actually do. You can say “Sure” to a date then send someone in your place who is a completely different person.
That’s when I learned there’s no limit to what you can do if you don’t value human life.
Years later, I was at a megachurch, browsing for love. I was in the huge lobby and nervous. Impending romance makes me nervous. So do big spaces filled with people pretending they had nothing to do with their genitals the night before.