Some dates are just disasters before they start. The first time I went out with Luke, he showed up in jeans and a ratty t-shirt that had definitely seen better days: clue number one that everything wasn't going to go exactly according to plan.
We drove to the theater, and he didn't have much to say. It seemed like he might be angry about something, but when I asked him what was wrong, he didn't want to tell me. I could understand that. You don't want to ruin a first date with a display of temper. Because of that, I didn't push as much as I should have.
We scraped in just a few minutes before the previews were supposed to start. It was hard to find a good seat, so we ended up right in the front row. Luke was starting to lighten up a little, looking like he might actually enjoy the date after all, so I started breathing a little easier.
Then she showed up.
I still remember the look in her eyes when she saw us sitting there together, eating out of the same popcorn bucket. "This is who you left me for?" she yelled. Before I could stop her, she grabbed the popcorn bucket out of his hands and threw it at both of us.
That low-cut top? Turns out, it functioned really well as a popcorn catcher. I had popcorn everywhere, but it seemed as though more of it had ended up down my shirt than anywhere else.
Luke wasn't sure which of us to talk to first. Since she'd run away crying, I guess she won. I was left there, covered in popcorn, wondering if he was even going to come back or not.
Needless to say, there was never a second date.