Trying to stay away form the typical date doldrums can be hard, but Frank and I are trying to break out of the norm. Stuffy formal dates are just weird for everyone, so why not do something when you could potentially make an ass out of yourself right off the bat? Instead of sitting at a table praying that you don’t have something on your face, you worry about potentially busting your ass while running away from a haunted house, which was my initial fear when we went on our first adventure date to a haunted house outside of Falun. He said he had been here before, so I followed his lead as we parked and walked up through the trees. The decrepit, well hidden old house still had a little fence around it, clothes line up, etc. and as we walked into the house there were a few clothing items strewn across the floor. It was really pretty scary, so using that as an excuse to hold Frank’s hand, I did, and we walked into the house together. After exploring a bit, looking at the 50’s era wallpaper and trying to avoid falling through the cracks of the floor, we thought about going upstairs, but, as I looked up the stairs and saw the dark rooms, I lost my balls and we decided to leave. It was a little too Amityville horror for my taste. After leaving, devoid of any ghostly encounters, we headed back to my house, and proceeded to pursue more ghostly encounters. I had a really good time, and I can truly appreciate how the whole I’m-trying-to-be-cool-and-look-interested-but-not-too-interested-thing doesn’t really apply when you’re afraid that one of the gates of hell will open up and swallow you. Adventure dating is awesome.
The next of our adventure dates followed an evening that we spent at a wedding in Winfield. The wedding was pleasant enough, and the reception was similar to many other wedding receptions, full of awkward conversation and even more awkward dancing. For me, just dancing within itself is an adventure enough, especially when I haven’t had enough to drink. Nothing gets my adrenaline going more than being the white chick with the poofy hair trying to look like I’m not convulsively seizing on the dance floor. At any rate, after shotgunning a beer and hitting the sack, we made it back to central Kansas and had quite the adventure date the next day.
When I talked to Frank on the phone on date day, we were deciding what to do- were we going to fish at my pond or his? Finally, he said, “Wanna go snorkeling?” Thinking he was joking, assuming that we would indeed be fishing, I said in my normal fashion, “Why, I would love nothing more!” Little did I know that he was serious. So we met up, went to his pond, strapped on some goggles, stripped down, and slipped into the moss covered mucky mess that was our snorkeling destination. After swimming for awhile, we got out and went to another pond where we did much of the same, however spending more time outside of the water than inside, getting more freckles and trying not to get stripey tan lines.
The most recent of our adventures was a camping and fishing trip to another one of Frank’s ponds. After simultaneously watching an episode of Rivermonsters while 100 miles apart and discussing what occurred during commercial breaks, we were inspired to try and catch catfish using a bar of soap. With that in mind, alcohol in the trunk, a giant kitchen knife sheathed in duct tape (to defend us from the Prairie Bears, of course), and a can of chew, we were on our way. When we reached his pasture, we set up my awesome tent (or more or less, Frank set up my awesome tent while I was standing in his way and occasionally copping a feel to make things more difficult), and Frank got a fire started. Being the extreme campers that we were, we brought an air mattress along to sleep on for the night, but the pump needed to be charged for 12 hours before using it, which of course we didn’t do. So, after airing up the mattress with an air compressor at his grandparent’s house and strapping it on the top of my car with duct tape we rode off into the night to meet up with our friends at the campfire.
While we were standing by the campfire, Frank took a dip. Since I had never tried chew, Frank took it upon himself to show me how to take one. After watching the proper technique and wanting to get on Frank’s “level”, I took a dip. At first, it was just a tingly sensation with a lot of grit and a lot of spit. In the first 5 minutes, it gave me the pleasant sensation of just being tipsy without the excessive volume of alcohol. However after about 10 minutes, it went straight from the fun tipsy phase to the, “Oh shit. I don’t want to go to sleep because the room is spinning” phase. Not so fun. Taking out the dip and rinsing my mouth out with beer, Frank and I laid beside the fire on the mattress, talked childhoods, looked at the stars, and let the buzz wear off. Perfect evening.
Really, this delve into Adventure Dating has been exciting. It allows the superficial first impression stage to lay by the wayside and your true personality to come out…plus, it gives you an excuse to stay in a tent.
A rare breed- Prairie Bear or, Prairieus Ursus maritimus, was discovered in 1666 by Coronado himself.
