I was 18. Young, naive and full of confidence.
She was 19. Intelligent, observant…and very hard to please.
After chatting for sometime, I stupidly asked her to be my valentine before really understanding the boundaries of our relationship.
Like most 18 year old boys, I only had one thing in mind. I didn’t really think much of valentines day, in fact, I didn’t really think much of any day at that stage of my life.
I remember arriving at her front door and being too afraid to knock. I just sort of stood their for a few moments trying to work out what to say.
“oh hey there valen-tine, you look’n fine…” just didn’t seem to cut it.
When I finally built up the courage to knock, her mother answered. She seemed delighted to see me, and after analysing me from head to toe she invited me in.
She informed me that my date would be a few moments. I reluctantly sat on a small couch and waited at the bottom of the stairs.
It was then that I met a my first…and only obstacle. The family dog.
He was small…and fluffy, but I was having none of it.
I don’t really know why, but I’ve always struggled when meeting dogs. Once they get to know me, then we usually hit it off like two brothers cooking a bbq. But not today.
The white ball of fluff started moving towards me at speed. It yanked at my jeans and latched on like there was no tomorrow.
I got up and started shifting my weight from side to side in an attempt to get this creature off me, but nothing worked, he wouldn’t budge.
I began swinging my leg, back and forth, side to side but the dog held strong.
At this point, I was in a frenzy trying to detach this dog from my leg.
I bent down and yanked at the dog.
Finally! it was off…but so was a big chunk of my pants.
I remember arriving at her front door. If only I hadn’t knocked.