Ukelele heartbreak

Over the break, my parents wanted to get me a ukelele for Christmas.  I went to pick it out. A very nice gentleman behind the counter helped me find the perfect one. For the sake of this blog, (because with my luck, someone probably knows him) and to protect the innocent, we shall call him Cal Griffin. He was gorgeous. Tall, thin, thick brown hair. Cute scruffy beard. We talked and flirted for probably an hour ish. On and off, because he had to help other costumers. I fantasized that he didn't want to leave my side, of course, but he was on the clock. What a responsible, honest, hard-working young man! ahhh. 

Did I mention he was gorgeous? 

 He was an English major. Musician. Budding novelist. Just working at this store until he became a successful author. I'll bet his writing would melt my heart. 

My dad joined us later to actually purchase the ukelele Cal helped me pick out. Cal made a point to tell us that if there's any problem with the insurance, or anything at all, to give him a call. He said that twice. And my dad liked Cal as much as I did. In the car, he said, "Why don't you call the store, and ask Cal to come to our ward Christmas party!"

So... I did. 

This is the conversation I had: 

"Guitar store. how can I help you?"

"Um..."I panicked. What if I was talking to him?! "Um.. To whom am I speaking?"

"Joe Bresh"

"Hey, Joe.  Do you know Cal Griffin?"

"Ya! Of course. He works in the north desk" 

"Ok, so don't laugh... but do you know if he's dating anyone?"

*Laugh*

"You weren't supposed to laugh!"

"I'm sorry. Cal's a cutie. I don't blame you!"

"Ok... so...?"

"Um... lemme find out!"

"Wait!..." Before I knew it I was on hold. 

"So... I've got some bad news..."

"Aw man. He's dating someone."

"Ya. sorry."

"Well at least he doesn't know who I am right? No harm done."

"Were you the girl in the grey dress?"

I was. 

"Maybe..."

"Ya, he knew who you were. He thought you might call."

"Oh man! that's embarrassing!"

"No! It's flattering to a guy! You're a cute girl."

"Aw thanks. Wait... did we meet...?"

"Ya... you walked into the keyboard section. You asked me where the books were."

"Oh."

I definitely didn't remember anyone besides Cal. 

"But hey, I'm no Cal, but if you're looking for someone to take out, I'm not dating anyone!"

oh dear. 

"Ha ha ha. Merry Christmas!"

inner-10-year-old girl

I had the pleasure of spending the day with my old friend, Whitney.

We giggled about boys. We told stories of stupidity, rumored and of our own.  We walked around trying on clothing WAY out of our price range, and inadvertently added Whitney to a special club in a very high-end clothing store.

We bought a cake pop at Starbucks, just so we could use the bathroom. Guess who ended up eating the cake pop... who knew that Whitney doesn't like cake?!
...

new famous friend :)

Right after finals, I sat next to a very nice man on a plane from Salt Lake to Denver.

As is my custom, I asked, “Are you leaving home or going home?”

“Neither”

“What were you doing in Salt Lake?/why are you going to Denver?”

You know, normal airplane chit-chat.

“I was here for a concert”

“Oh! The Mormon Tabernacle Choir concert?!” I knew several friends who went; that’s the world I live in.

“The what…?” he responded.

 I might have guessed that this bling and chain-clad fellow didn't fly in to Temple Square to hear the Mo-Tab.

“Um… never mind”

“No, I was in a concert.”

“Oh! Cool! What’s your name? Would I have heard of you?”

“You might have. My name’s Sloan Bone. The band’s name is ‘Bone Thugs and Harmony’”

I may be the last person in the world who would have heard of them. To fully appreciate the reality of this scene, I have to give you a background of my musical history and knowledge.

I grew up in show choirs, singing Broadway oldies and pop songs from the 60s; step-touching and snapping to the beats, in bright, cheesy, and often pleather costumes, and we would perform in places like amusement parks and retirement homes.

In high school with my Concert Choir, I sang Schubert’s Mass in G, and a very complicated choral arrangement of, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” I was in the Colorado All-State choir, where we sang a Debussy piece, "Nuit d'Etoiles"in the Denver Capital Building.

 My high school musicals consisted of dancing to "Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, MO,"



being the Fairy Godmother in Cinderella,





and directing a musical about women pioneers.

Right now, I am a member of the BYU Women’s Chorus, where we buzz and trill our way through warm ups, so we can sing Sanctus after Sanctus, and some Beatles’ songs...with ukuleles.

The worst part of this all is that it's true.

one should look before one enters a car

about three weeks ago, I had a date call and say he'd pick me up on the curb. For the record, he's a perfect gentleman, and would have come to the door, but we were a little bit late, and it was cold outside, and trying to find parking in my neighborhood is like finding Rudolf on the Fourth of July.

So I ran out, scarf in hand, still putting one arm through the hole of my jacket. I rushed to the white car pulled up by the curb of my apartment complex and jumped in.  As I was organizing myself in the seat, reaching for the seatbelt, I shouted, "HEY! How's it going?" and looked over at the driver.

then promptly said to the confused expression staring back at me:

"Youuuu areeeee not my date."

The nice man laughed, and said, "nope"

"I hope you have a lovely evening. I'll get out of your car now"

When I saw my actual date pulling up right behind. So I popped into his car (which was kind of white, for the record). I asked him if this was the same car he picked me up in last time, and he said no; he was borrowing his roommates.
"ok. cool."

That is a story in itself. However, the story continues.

So last week I was walking around Salt Lake with a blind date, looking at the lights in temple square. A nice man, (Scott I found out later), shouted from across a few people to my date. They knew each other from school, and so he stopped to chat for a moment on the sidewalk. After they discussed some group project, he turned to make small talk with me.
He asked me how I knew my date
"My brother's in your program as well"
he asked me where I lived
"Just south of that restaurant"
"oh? In those apartments?"
"yup!"
"Funny story about that apartment complex..."
I look at my date, and the other couple with us, everyone intent on hearing the funny story.
"I once was parked outside, just on the curb waiting to pick up some friends. And this random girl gets in my car."
At this point I start to giggle. Thinking, what are the chances that another girl got in his car, and that it wasn't me...? He continued,
"She said, 'Hey! how's it going?!" man, he even repeated my inflection pretty convincingly, "then she said, 'Oh you're not my date!' then she gets out!"
so now, I've totally lost it. My giggles are coming out in sobs...
"Do you know who it was?!" he asked
I was thinking I could probably pin this on an invisible roommate, or some crazy friend. but the truth of the matter was just too funny.

"That was me!" I said through hefty laughter.

He said he tweeted about it. #that awkward moment when some girl gets into your car, and realizes you're not her date.

I would have laughed at the tweet.

My friend in the other couple standing beside us, witnessing the whole thing said sincerely, "I'm not even surprised that was you."

honestly, neither am I.