Is timing everything?
Shortly after returning from a two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, it was time to pursue the ladies again. After being dateless for 24 whole months, I was ready to jump back into the chase.
On a Sunday early in that semester, I fully expected that she (the Mrs. Youngquist-to-be) would be sitting in the front pew of the chapel — just waiting for me.
I approached a young lady before sunday school and delivered a suave line, “So what are you doing Friday night?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, with a confounded stare.
“I’m thinking of asking you out. Why don’t you check your schedule and get back to me,” I spouted as if my last name was actually spelled C-A-S-A-N-O-V-A!
She said OK and I walked away with a slight bounce in my step.
I may have even shaken her hand before walking away. By the way, the dating handshake between the sexes here on campus is the telltale sign of a newly returned, socially awkward missionary.
Nonetheless, she called! Miracles have not ceased. She was willing to going on a date with me, despite my lack of suavity.
The plan was to go to an orchestra concert on campus. No one told me you have to buy tickets 30 seconds after they are for sale, or you’re not getting in. I was planning on getting them at the door.
As I arrived to pick her up for the date, I was told that the concert was sold out.
No worries. Plan B! We were about to go to Idaho Falls for the bland and safe dinner and a movie. The phone rang. It was a mutual friend of ours wanting us to join him and his date at a dance going on that night in the Manwaring Center on campus.
When I heard the word “dance,” a chill ran up my spine. I hadn’t been to a dance since before the mission, and I was pretty sure the whole process of entering the Missionary Training Center had magically swiped me of any coordinated rhythmic moving abilities.
My date excitedly told me that the dance was being put on for the Special Olympic athletes, since the regional games were going to take place at the school’s stadium the following day.
So not only did my date sound like she really wanted to go but it was a chance to show support for a great cause. For those two reasons alone, I agreed to go.
We arrived at the dance arm in arm and proceeded to participate in the strange phenomenon called “The Dance.”
You know “The Dance” — it is where a large group gets together to move and strangely contort their bodies to an ever-changing beat, as if trying to prove something.
Now I must admit, I found myself having a blast. My date seemed to be having fun, and it felt really good to support the Special Olympic athletes.
Before I knew it, the dance was over and the DJ turned off the music, thanking everyone for coming out. We all clapped and hollered with dance crowd excitement.
The DJ reminded everyone of the Special Olympics that were taking place tomorrow and asked us all to wish the athletes good luck for their upcoming competitive events.
I graciously took my date’s arm and proceeded to escort her around as we wished our new friends good luck on the coming days events.
The End —
OK, OK, I wish it ended there.
But as we were mingling, a sweet looking young lady walked towards me.
She grabbed me ever so gently, just above the elbow, looked me straight in the eye and said, “Hey, good luck tomorrow.” With a voice that you hear your mother use to say, “‘Preciate ‘ya.”
I was sent spinning, trying to figure out how I was going to recover from this gross social error of mistaking my dancing for a handicap.
Humor can usually get you out of any awkward situation.
As I was going through my mental Rolodex of responses, an automatic response jumped from my mouth.
“Thank you,” I replied.
The unsuspecting girl turned around with a smile on her face and walked away with a slight bounce in her step.
At that moment, I realized that my date and I were still standing arm-in-arm.
“Did you hear what just happened?” I whispered.
“Yeah,” she replied.
“Should I take you home?” I asked, defeated by humiliation.
“Yeah,” she said.
Timing could not have been more dead-on that night.
Time has an ability to make or break a moment, but it also has an ability to make us wait for something to happen. So here’s to all our tomorrows - Good Luck.
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