Dream Date

dream dateWasn’t shy around girls in college…….with ONE EXCEPTION.

A gorgeous, tiny (oh so virginal!)  blonde with girl next door looks left me completely tongue tied.  Several attempts at conversation left me frantically waving for someone to perform the Heimlich Maneuver.
Could not croak a word.
I called her Dream date, and told everyone who would listen about my unswerving love for this little stranger.
During this time, I was working in the college cafeteria.  A gang of four would slop gravy, chicken, and pot roast while loading dishes into a dishwasher and stacking them when they came out.
Extreme fun frenzy.
A student tray slides in, loaded with dishes, glasses and silverware.
Also on the tray is a college student ID, accidentally left behind.
I pick up the ID and look at the picture.
And the face on the ID is DREAM DATE.
OH……MY…..GOD.
Unable to speak, I wave the ID at my three fellow dishroom grunts.
They gather round, they look, look again, and one more time!
“Dream Date!”, they squeal in unison.
By the end of the shift, every cafeteria worker learned of my find.
All congratulated me, some hugged me, and all asked what I would do.
“No f’ing idea”, I said.
Went back to my residence and gave the issue a lot of thought.  Also stared at the ID for HOURS.
Decided that I would give the ID back to Dream Date the following night at the dining hall.  That night, I slid the ID under my pillow (and no place else).
The next evening, I reported for work and informed everyone about my plans for returning the ID to Dream date.
Stupid idea.
During the dinner hour, I continuously scanned the dinner tables for the sweet little thing.  Finally saw her.
I NERVOUSLY stepped into the dining area, not realizing that EVERYONE was behind me, eager to observe this ‘once for the ages’  bizarre mating ritual.
“Uh, uh, ex…ex…cuse me, I think this is yours”, I sweated.
Big smile…such gorgeous teeth.
“Oh thank you!  What’s your name?”
“Gr..Gr…Greg!”
“Greg, I was looking everywhere for this!  Thanks so much.”
And I left, heading back to the dishroom.
And then I saw them.  My work mates.
And they broke into applause.
Tried to dig a hole to China.
Eventually, Dream Date and I became pretty good friends.  And we even dated a few times.
But to be honest, the cute basketball stars were her cup of tea.
I wasn’t bad at basketball, but I didn’t make girls sweaty with my intense cuteness IQ.
I did tell her about everything that went on with the finding of her ID.
She just smiled, winked, and said, “Yea, I kinda figured that out.”
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