Does first impression matter? It was a beautiful spring evening. The sun was just beginning to give way to incoming twilight. I could smell summer in the air, even through my closed window. Soon the public pool would be opening.  You Belong With Me was playing on my radio." She wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts......” The mood was set for a soft spring night. However the mood inside my room was quite different. I was running around trying to do a million things a one time. My makeup was all wrong for my outfit. My hair was too big, no, now too flat. My stomach was rolling inside itself. My poor stomach was on tumble dry and I couldn't quite get it to stop. I couldn't find my shoes; my shirt had foundation on the side. What I really wanted to do was to sit on my bed and cry.

John had called twenty minutes before the chaos. I could not believe he had called me. He probably thought I was stupid because I was so tongue-tied. He asked me if I would mind coming to dinner with him and his family for his brother’s birthday party. Would I mind? Do pigs squeal and cows moo?

The horn honked. My frustration grew. If this was a real date, my first one in a long time, shouldn't he come to the door and pick me up? Maybe take my arm in his and lead me to the car? I had envisioned my first date to at least start off right. This must be an omen.

I walked out the door. The moment I heard the click of the lock I knew I looked horrible. A million thoughts raced through my mind, among these were the fact that I should have worn the blue shirt, my hair looks horrible, and oh god everyone is watching me. I tried to hide the sheer gut-wrenching fear that was boiling in my stomach. I had to do this. I was in too deep to turn and run now.

My sweet chariot of the night was a 2010 sapphire blue truck. Country music boomed from the high quality speakers. There were at least five people in the truck, and it was moving from side to side to the sound and beat of the music.

Upon climbing in the truck,  I was greeted by four of his family members and of course him. This is was the night of my dreams, and it was going to be shared with five other people. I resisted the urge to sing out loud, and instead rocked to the beat of the pulsing music. I had no idea what the singer was singing  into his/her microphone because I was too busy staring into his eyes.

We arrived at the dining establishment of choice. A little pizza place called Pizza Man. This restaurant was really tiny and I knew it was his parents choice of dining. John and I took seats next to each other. We texted to communicate. I looked at the place. Half walls divided the separate rooms. There were three television sets in each corner of the dining room. Two had the NASCAR race  with the hard crashes in highlights. Finally the fourth was playing the news. The jukebox playing hard-hitting heavy metal drowned all these out. It wasn't the romantic, expensive restaurant I had envisioned for my first date ever.

We ordered pizzas to share with all his family. The greasy cheese stretched to what seemed beyond belief. Our waitress was a preppy looking young woman who was tired and ready to go home. The last thing she needed that night was a group of almost ten people to increase her workload. So she was really rude, and in turn, her tip was lacking a bit also.

I was about to leave the building, and the memory of this first date behind, when I nudged his arm and asked if he would be my date to prom. He told me he’d have to think about it, butterflies dancing a samba in my stomach. John nodded and said, “Just kidding, I’d be delighted to accompany you on prom night.”

So our first date wasn't exactly how I had planned. My first prom was three weeks from that day, and I remember smiling to myself as John took my hand under the table  and said,  “ I know this is only our first date, but I love you!”