I met AngryBird in the Summer of 2003 as an undergrad when 12 of my closest friends and I decided to rent a giant rundown house near campus. He was a friend-of-a-friend from another school, but visited often. On one of these trips, AngryBird asked to get together just the two of us.
THE FIRST DATE
In a college town, there generally aren’t too many date activities, but you can always count on cheap meals, bad live music, and watery beer. I was in luck when AngryBird planned an evening of bad live music AND watery beer for us. Afterwards, I invited him back to my house and we stayed up drinking and talking on the front porch, before we each retired to our respective homes. At this point, it would appear that I got through a reasonable date without anything going wrong.
Obviously, this couldn’t be the case. The next morning I woke up and some things were missing. Like my car. It took a good 45 minutes of tracing and re-tracing my steps from the day prior to finally conclude that it was time to call the police. Do you know what’s a real buzz kill to a relationship? Accusing someone of stealing your car. When the detective finally got to the bottom of it, it turned out that a local hoodlum had broken into our living room, taken my car keys from the key table, and driven off with the prize.
Too bad there’s not a Hallmark card that says, “Sorry I called the police and told them you stole my car.” xoxo Awkward