The Infamous Doorstep

I did something awkward last weekend. The good part is, it came right after something awesome. The bad part is, it came right after something awesome. That something was a date. The date was to the BYU Men's Volleyball game. Someone told me it takes a pretty confident guy to take a girl--a blind date girl--to a sporting event where she could potentially be checking out very athletic guys the whole time. Which I wasn't. Because he was nice and articulate and into tennis and taller than me.

But I temporarily lost my social skills when he dropped me off. Because instead of having the doorstep conversation on the doorstep, I unlocked the door, stepped inside, greeted my roommate and her boyfriend who were cuddling on the couch, and then turned to said Mr. Articulate and had the conversation. With the always awkward end of the night hug.

And then I closed the door. And then my brain kicked in again. Hey, wait. That's not how that was supposed to work. Oh well. I'll never do that again.