It was a first date and it was Valentine's Day so I had to deliver. I stole a bottle of wine from my parents' liqor cabinet (this was back before I could drink legally), borrowed my parents car and drove over to her place to make her dinner.
I made dinner, we split the wine and I scored bonus points by identifying Gregory Abbot's 'Shake You Down' when it played on the radio while we sipped wine in the living room.
I should have rested on my laurels.
I thought I would make the night more romatic by driving down to the Alexandria waterfront where we could see the city lights and gaze at the stars.
I drove to the waterfront and I even found parking (which should have been a warning sign). We got out of the car, strolled along the waterfront and walked down to the end of the pier.
Where we met some guys who invited us on their boat and we said no but we agreed to go back to their house where I engaged in a game of quarters in which I drank Canadian Club while one of the guys drank Coors Lite while the other guy took my date into the living room and proceeded to sweet talk her and I had no clue what was going on until she came back in the room and told me we had to leave.
We left but little did she know I'd had 6 shots of CC in 30 minutes because I didn't know how to play quarters because I didn't get invited to parties because I wasn't a cool kid in high school and since I wasn't a cool kid, 6 shots in 30 minutes was a lot for a guy like me.
I escorted her back to the car where I promptly projectile-vomited over the white picket fence of the yard next to which we had parked. When she asked me, "What was that?", I answered "Nothing."
I then proceeded to tell her to get in the car and I proceeded to drive her home at 5 mph.
After that night, I never talked to her again. I never even saw her again.
I'm not proud of the mistakes I've made, but I offer my tale as a caution to other members of the Summers family to warn them that everybody hurts. You're not alone.