Valentine’s Day is a time for many lovers to rejoice and for singles to ignore. Hate it or love it, we all agree that the path to true love is not always smooth.
Prior to finding my dear Lord of the Gourds, I had my fair share of dating mishaps and unrequited love seemed to be my lot in life. For those who are still there, I have felt your pain. At Mile High Mamas, I’m teaming up with the sure-to-be hit movie He’s Just Not that Into You for a contest that will allow you to vent your lovelorn frustrations.
Of course, since many of you aren’t local and cannot attend the pre-screening, be ye not dismayed. Still drop on by and say “hi, it sure sucked to be you” or email me if you have a story of your own you’d like to share.
As aforementioned, I have not always been the very epitome of romantic idealism you see before you (just work with me here). In college, I had a crush on a guy we’ll call Rett Meaty (name has been changed to protect the not-so innocent). Rett was hunky, funny, completely clueless and had women fawning all over him. He worked on campus at 4 a.m. and a girl in his complex drove him every day. “No worries,” she would say. “I’m awake at 3:30 a.m. anyway to go running at the track.” The track that did not open until 5:30 a.m.
But he wanted me. Or at least I liked to think so. We hung out regularly but there had been no romantic professions. Rett worked hard to get through school but was really poor. At one point, my mom sent him $20 to take me out to dinner. Imagine how thrilled I was when he came back to exclaim, “Hey, thank your mom for that money. Now I don’t have to donate plasma this month.”
Clueless.
I decided I would give good ol’ Rett one last chance. If he asked me out for Valentine’s Day, there would be hope. We continued to hang out every day but nothing happened. My confidence started to fade but then I received The Call on February 13th: Would I go out with him for an evening of whimsical fun and romance the next evening? OK, so maybe he didn’t exactly say that but surely his invitation of attending a movie for his biology class on campus was just a cover, right?
I primped, I plucked. I was ready for him to declare his undying love for me. I picked him up and he directed me to campus but I was still not deterred. Maybe he had setup a surprise dinner for us on top of the Romey Building. Or perhaps he had stashed a series of clues for me to follow, only to be rewarded in the end by a giant smooch.
I got out of the car and he directed me to the biology building. We entered the theatre and settled in to watch a biology film. And it was not just any biology film. It was:
Fetal Development: A Nine Month Journey.
That was the last I ever saw good ol’ Rett again.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 