family and it was worth it. After the get togethers were all done, New Years was approaching and even though LDS youth were scarce, a friend and I drove to the LDS Area New Years Dance. There weren't a lot there - maybe 40 but a similar number of guys and girls so it was working out well. I had been chatting up the most attractive girl and when everyone naturally paired up we ended up together. While dancing and sharing snacks she told some hilarious dating stories then challenged me so I told her one from a year earlier:

A few awkward months had passed at BYU after my mission. There were a few semi-dates with friends of roommates' girlfriends but nothing I wanted to pursue. Finally I was asked out of the blue to an elegant dance by a hot (of course) but unfamiliar girl in the ward. It was a few weeks away and she said all I had to do was find a credible tux and arrange something to do after. What a relief. My heart was singing. A few days went by and I'd try to get ahold of her but she was always busy and when I'd drop by she was always studying or away. She'd always respond but we didn't have time to get to know each other. I worried I wouldn't recognize her when I came to pick her up and maybe she was some crazy person despite her roommates' assurances.

Three days before the dance she went dark. No response. No answers at the door even though it was clear that multiple people were there. After my last class Friday I was walking home and saw her apartment door was open so I went over. I looked inside and recognized her. She was snuggling with some tall rough-looking guy with a mustache. He ducked into the hall while she came to the door and said that she couldn't come to the dance because some long-lost friend had come to town for a few days and she felt obligated to take him to the dance. I could go with her roommate. I was stunned and said some gibberish about it not being a problem and to not worry about it. I was crushed and disavowed women until American Heritage class Monday morning.

As I got to this part of the story I noticed the expression on the face of the girl I was telling it to. She had turned kind of flushed and was no longer leaning into me or even smiling. The vague familiarity of her face came into focus as I realized I was telling the story to the girl who had dumped me.

There was nowhere else to go and since most people had paired up there were only the hosts and DJ to talk to. The next three hours were the most awkward of my life to that point. I never saw her again.