Towards the end of my first year in college, I had a date lined up with this really hot guy. I am still not sure how I managed to get him to ask me out, but I was just so happy to be going out with this guy that I was so totally into. He was one of those few guys that just seemed to have it all together. He was handsome, smart, great in sports and a really nice guy to everyone he met. Most of the popular girls had dated him, and that put a lot of pressure on me because I just felt that just by being with him I was competing in that class.  Of course I also felt that if I handled myself well, then dating him would actually give me some more status around campus.

With that in mind, I made sure that I had all my ducks in a row.  I weaselled some money out of my dad and bought a new outfit. Nothing sleazy, but I made sure that it accentuated what few assets that I had to offer. It was simple, a plain patterned skirt and a nice blouse. Nothing fancy, because we were just going to the movies. It would not do to overdress. The night of our date I showered, put on my best lingerie (in case we got in an accident and ended up in the hospital – LOL) and put a lot of extra effort into my hair, cosmetics, and nails.

I was keyed up to the highest level. This was my big night. Looking back I can see that I had blown the importance all out of proportion, but that night I was a bundle of nerves.

When he showed up to get me I was so excited, he was right on time and the date started off  as wonderful as I hoped it would. The movie was great, the dinner was very good as well. We decided to go dancing. Then disaster struck. As we started to shake our booties on the dance floor, to my horror, the elastic waistband of my underwear broke. The faster I danced the faster they slid down. Eventually they fell to my ankles. It was a good thing the dance floor was packed with people shaking and hopping and no one noticed. I did the only thing I could  think of doing in that situation, I just kicked them away and kept right on dancing. It was kind of embarrassing for me to watch my undies get kicked around the dance floor for the rest of the evening.

Other than that one event, the balance of my time spent dancing was just wonderful. He held me in such a comfortable way, and we danced as one all evening. We talked about what we were majoring in at at school, our life aspirations, and less serious jokes and annecdotes between songs and sets. He was as fun to me as I seemed to be to him.

My bad luck followed when we left the dance. When we got to my place, he leaned over to kiss me goodnight. As our lips touched, he said “OUCH' and pulled away very quickly. I was confused. I noticed a bit of blood on his neck and grabbed a kleenix to wipe it off for him.  It seemed that the underwire on my bra had broken and was sticking out. As he leaned in to kiss me he was impaled by the wire.  He was very nice about it; laughed actually. I was secretly mortified. Both my best bra and my best panties destroyed in the same night, and we had not even had monkey sex to show for it. We dated a few more times, but every time he leaned in for a kiss, he seemed to hesitate. Like Pavlov's dog, this lovely man was unconsciously expecting to be attacked by another secret weapon in my bra again.  As it turned out, we had some spark but eventually decided that we were not destined to be life long partners, and eventually went our own ways. The good thing was that having dated him, I picked up a lot of status points and never had any problems getting a date after that.

So the moral of this story is that if you have a hot date, make sure of two things:

So if you are in college like I was but are having problems finding someone to date, then you should try this link:
Dating in College

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