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Dating is Like a Box of Chocolates
My momma never said anything about boxes of chocolate and life, unless it was to wish out loud that the Russell Stover boxes she bought for our Easter baskets came with a chocolate box map, like the more expensive boxes did. If you’re honest about it, you’ve stuck your finger in the bottom of a chocolate in order to see what kind it was before committing to the calories. I’ve always viewed the fruit nougaty kind as karmic betrayal.
Dating is like a box of Russell Stover chocolates. There’s no chocolate box map to help a person navigate the nasties. Instead, you have to go blind, relying on visual cues and past knowledge, to determine if your selection is worth your time and energy. Not so sure? Hear me out. If your dating history is anything like mine, you’ve experienced your share of fruit nougat.
Enter Dave. He looked good on the outside. We had been friends all throughout geography class. Good sense of humor. Beefy shoulders and narrow-hipped. I had a secret crush on him, but he already had a girlfriend. Then there was the night at the university library. We had finished studying, and he offered to walk me back to my dorm.
“Hey, want to go to the bar with me this Saturday night?”
“You mean on a date?”
“Yeah. Whattaya say?”
