University of Nevada, Reno




My first, and almost last, date 

By Nora


NoraWhen I had my first date, I was 17 years old. His name was Price. He came to the house to pick me up. My dad and mom and five brothers were waiting around just to meet him. My family had an old camera.


The door opened and he came in. Dad, of course, wanted a picture. He tried to take it, but it failed. Price said, “Let me check it out.” He took a picture and the film fell out of the camera. Bad start. Then he also called me Mona instead of Nora. Point two. We went to see a “007” movie, and as he was driving there, he hit a large yellow raccoon—not good. When we were in the show, he went to get refreshments—too much soda, popcorn, candy kisses, and of course Jujubes—remember those?


All through the movie he would say, “I can’t believe these guys.” The four guys behind us were rowdy. We were sitting there and all of the sudden, he grabbed my hand like a shark attack and I jumped up and threw my popcorn on the four behind us. Crazy. Then they all stood up and said, “We can’t believe this guy,” and moved.


On the way home, he was speeding, so I said, “Stop” when we got to the house. Of course, Daddy saw him pull up too fast, so that was my first and last date all year.


Continue This Story