They were "special spirits"

On my drive home from work today (which, by the way, seems to be getting longer and longer), I was reminiscing about the Singles Ward I attended before I moved back to Orem. I thought I would share two special memories with you.


1. A guy who we'll call Creepy J, cornered me in the hallway and used what may be the greatest LDS pick-up line ever: "Have you met President Monson? 'Cause I have." I thought I was special, but apparently he uses that line on all the girls.

2. We did an activity called Girlfriend/Boyfriend for Five Weeks. Basically you were matched up with someone and you went out once a week for five weeks and then played a game at the end to see who got to know each other the best. I was paired up with The Aviator. Where do I even begin? He picked me up forty-five minutes late, immediately looked me up and down and realized I was not his normal type (skinny and blond). We went to meet another couple to play Frisbee Golf and I have driven with many crappy drivers in my life, but never have I feared for my life as I did with him. We were weaving in and out of traffic on the freeway, going abnormal speeds, etc. I was seriously holding on for dear life. During this time, the conversation went something like this:

(Picture his lines being said in a suave, soap opera-y way. Not that they were actually said this way, but it makes it more fun.)

Him: Did you sing in your high school choir?
Me: Nope.
Him: Well I did.

Him: Do you play any sports?
Me: Nope. (In my head I was laughing and thinking what a funny joke that was!)
Him: Well I play soccer for my college.

Him: Have you ever been to Ireland?
Me: Nope.
Him: Well I have.

Him: Have you ever been to Australia?
Me: Nope.
Him: Well I have.

Him: Have you ever hied to Kolob?
Me: Nope.
Him: Well I have.

O.k., well maybe not that last one, but you get my point. So we get to the Frisbee Golf place and pretty much I suck. Fortunately, so does the other girl, so The Aviator and his BFF play ahead and we're left behind. She was actually really nice. The BFF was too. It was just The Aviator who wasn't. So after what felt like fifty-six hours of stupid Frisbee Golf which, by the way, is not a sport (sorry, Cathy), we went to dinner. Dinner was better because I could talk to the other two, although The Aviator did have to throw in all the other places he's been to, and all the Broadway plays he's seen, and how he regularly wrestles with alligators. Dinner ends and as we recklessly sped out of the parking lot, there was apparently a cop behind us. I did not actually see the cop as I was too distracted by the fact that The Aviator looked over at me and said, and I quote, "Do you mind if I run from the cops?" And he did. Needless to say the rest of the drive home was a bit awkward. When we finally got back to my place he started opening his car door to walk me to the front door, but I just said bye and hopped out as fast as I could. We never spoke again.

I should probably mention that I call him The Aviator because he is currently in flight school. A bonus of flight school is that apparently you can tell which direction clouds are coming from and what the chances are of them pouring rain on your game of Frisbee Golf.