Reflections: Conversations, Essays, and Other Writings

My Dating History (And You Have to Promise Not to Laugh)

In 1977, I penned a look back at a boy’s perspective on dating for Glamour magazine. My Dating History (And You Have to Promise Not to Laugh) The first time I called a girl for a date, I was sixteen. Her name was Joan Sloman (all names used herein are pseudonyms). She had short brown hair and was cute. Needless to say, I was nervous. Speaking with Joan about anything more momentous than a missed homework assignment was a new experience , and the last thing I wanted was to seem like a clod. So I wrote out my lines and her anticipated responses in advance. In draft form, my cue sheet resembled the following: (Telephone rings—Father or mother answers) Me: Hello. Could I speak with Joan? Father or mother: Just a minute. (Pause) Joan: Hello. Me: Hi, Joan.This isTom Hauser. How are you? Joan: Fine. How are you? Me: Okay. Did you get your homework done for Mr. Rock’s class? Joan:Yes. Me: Me, too. It sure was hard.Would you like to go to a movie with me this Saturday night? I planned on ad libbing the rest. I got as far as,“This is Tom Hauser. How are you?”Then Joan answered,“I’m sick.” My script blown, I panicked and hung up. Several days later, when I met her in the halls at school, I mumbled something about having been “disconnected by the operator.” 234 THOMAS HAUSER The moral of the pathetic little story above is that the process of social maturation is every bit as painful for men as it is for women. For those of you who are unconvinced, here’s a brief description of other notable “firsts” in my life. FIRST EXPOSURE TO THE OPPOSITE SEX IN A SOCIAL SETTING:When I was twelve, my parents decided that I should attend dancing school on alternate Saturday nights.This interfered with watching Have Gun,WillTravel on television, although I usually got home in time for Gunsmoke. Each class started with the girls sitting on one side of the room and the boys charging toward them.One night,I outraced everyone to Cody Davenport (the prettiest girl in the room) and asked her to dance. She declined, quite loudly, on the grounds that I was “ooky.” Instead of letting the matter drop, Mr. Patterson (who ran the dancing school and looked amazingly like Bert Parks) turned off the record player and made me stand in the center of the room next to Cody while he delivered a lecture on etiquette. His words, which remain etched in my mind to this day, were as follows:“Now, boys and girls; even if Tommy Hauser were ooky—and mind you, I’m not saying that he is; but even if Tommy Hauser were ooky—the polite thing for Cody to do would be to dance with him. It wouldn’t kill Cody to dance one dance with someone she doesn’t like.” FIRST DATE: Having been frustrated in my efforts to go to a movie with Joan, I retired from the social scene. Friday and Saturday nights were spent babysitting for my younger brother and sister.The first date I had was the high school senior prom.Ten days before the event, the school principal began calling dateless students into his office and arbitrarily assigning prom dates. Petrified at the thought of being matched with Ingrid Sokolow (braces and acne), I invited Cindy Foreman (kind of nice).We had a surprisingly pleasant time, after which I never called her again.That summer, while working as a camp counselor, I met the first girl I ever really liked who was willing to go out with me.We went to a party, a movie, and an amusement park. Just when I was falling in love, she dumped me for the baseball instructor. FIRST COLLEGE MIXER:The first college mixer I attended was very much like the next ninety-nine college mixers I attended.The only opening line I could ever think of was,“Would you like to dance?” Since REFLECTIONS 235 I couldn’t dance (after my experience with Cody Davenport, I had developed a mental block), I simply stood around staring at the girls, feeling uncomfortable (and, I’m sure, making them uncomfortable). FIRST SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: I necked once during my freshman year of college.The episode occurred in a parked car behind the...