Remember hearing that phrase about the high school years, those whacky teen times? Or about college? Or about your 20s? Maybe even your 30s? Hell, hearing them about any time in your life when you figured that the “these-are-the-best-days-of-your-life” sentiment must apply to everyone else but you, because the so-called “best days” were actually an unending string of dark comedy acts, and you were the star as often as you were the punch line?
And who can forget that other great line: “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.”
And so fair readers, welcome to the very “best days” of the very best and worst times of my life. Put another way: “Awkward, thy name is RG.”
Put another, another way: Think dinner date when an out-of-town boy returns. Then think romantic expectations, nervous chatter, questions, and ultimately, wonder–about how the hell you have found yourself in such a ridiculous scenario that even involves an out-of-town boy.
It’s all new to me–so much like it was during the aforementioned best days of my life a thousand years ago. I don’t know the way to play by who-knows-whose rules, the way to play the game others have played far more than I have, the way to play it even remotely well and still keep my heart in one piece and my guilt and angst in check, all while my good friend “honor” knocks at the back door, demanding, “How you gonna keep me intact?”
And that was just the first two dinner dates.
Hey, Upset Waitress–about your thoughts on alone time. The worst of times for me, thus far, may actually have been some of the best. Thanks for the reminder as I tread delicately toward dinner date three.