WEEK 1 // The Hand Holding Bandit

Welcome to my shameless blog! If this is your first time here, I would start with this post. It explains all about my current psychosis where I have decided to willingly go on dates with strangers from the internet. Yay!

For this first week, we did NOT meet on Tinder. Why am I talking about it? Because it was still a complete stranger. And it's my blog and I can do what I want.

I will call him the Hand Holding Bandit, or HHB for short. It's actually a name I myself was dubbed with back in freshman year of college when I was not yet in the NCMO scene and just literally held hands with every boy. Awwww, fetus Kenzie. So innocent, so, so stupid.

HHB and I met at a rooftop concert here in Provo. Me and a friend were walking around the food trucks, and he stops me in the middle of the street to tell me he loves my hair. Flattered and wanting more compliments I stopped and talked to him. He asked if I like to go dancing, which I do. He then just flat out asked if I wanted to go with him and got my number. It was great! A++. Straight to the point. I hate the dance around of "let's hang out sometime" and "sometime" never happens. If we don't have a time setup, we don't have a date. Then again this advice is coming from someone who is literally dating on Tinder, so don't take anything I say seriously. I am not responsible for your disastrous love life too.

So our date rolls around and I meet him at his house which turns out to be one of those huge polygamist houses that are connected by tunnels. Also the previous owners were hoarders. There are very creepy vibes going on and I am pretty convinced it's haunted. After eating, playing card games and plenty of silent prayers that I would not be possessed by the devil, we leave to go Latin Dancing at BYU which he claims is really close. As it turns out, a quick walk ended up taking about half an hour. This would not have been a problem if I was in shape and it was 20 degrees cooler. But I was sweating and looking a general hot mess about halfway there. As we continue to talk I find out he is very active and likes to run a lot. So it goes without saying he is not breaking a sweat. He has also stolen a tennis ball from someone’s yard that he has been non-stop throwing around while talking to me. My eye twitches but I say nothing. I’m so close to a water fountain. I start hallucinating.

When we finally get there after 300 years, he has built himself up to be a very experienced dancer. I was happy about this because that’s less work I have to do when he is throwing me around. Turns out, we’re about on the same level of average-ness. Also we have ZERO chemistry. Not in a cutesy, bumbly way. In the cringy way. It's like we're K-Stew and R-Patz from the Twilight movies except a lot sweatier. We are not in synch at all, he’s expecting me to predict his every move, and when I don’t he gets very visibly flustered. I start being a little naggy when he’s yanking on me in ways that I know I shouldn’t be yanked on. I can feel the teacher staring at us wondering how we came to be. It’s no bueno. My saving grace was the fire alarm that went off, which was actually a false alarm. But since HHB and I are both cranky and think each other sucks at dancing, we decide to leave. And the awkwardness has only just begun.

As we start the hell trek back to his house and my car, things get weird. Multiple times throughout the night, he has tried to hold my hand. I always politely pulled back. Honestly if I really liked him, I wouldn’t have minded. I am the original Hand Holding Bandit after all. But I wasn’t feeling it. At all. My rejection after rejection doesn’t seemed to have deterred him though. Once again, he tries to hold my hand. I pull away. HHB looks at me with his best puppy dog eyes and goes, “Can I hold your hand?” “Uh, no.” “Please?” “No.” “Please? I want to see if we have chemistry. Will you hold my hand?”

How is it a dog can understand no, but some men can’t?

I literally had to explain to this child for 5 minutes why I wasn’t comfortable holding hands, and it wasn’t necessary to know if you have chemistry or not. Maybe I should take all future dates dancing because it can prevent so many regretful decisions.

“Maybe if I kiss him he’ll stop being a frog!” - Every Girl Ever.

Do not deny it ladies, we have all been there.

Needless to say his constant pleading did not make me succumb to holding hands with him. Our awkward conversation only continues to get awkward-er as he tells me that I’m gonna fall in love with him. WUT. I pick up the pace. He tells me I walk fast. I nervous laugh it off and there is a lot of silence on the way back. He tells me I remind him of a song called Picky. How is that a bad thing? I just say “yep that’s me!” and he giggles to himself about it the rest of the walk home. It was a little unsettling.

Okay, so this date obviously did not go well. I give him the obligatory hug for at least asking me out and thinking of a date, and he stands there like a robot. I back away and say, “Are you seriously not going to hug me?” And he doesn’t say anything. I try walking away and he goes, "No no, come hug me" so I go back in. Again he just stands there. That’s… super obnoxious. Avoiding the weirdest power play ever, I walk away. He tries to get me to come back and when I don’t because I’m not 5 he says, “Am I ever gonna see you again?” I say “Maybe!” and shut the car door.

My maybe was a lie.

So here’s to the next who knows how many dates. The bad, the good, and all the awko-tacos. I feel like the stories are only going to get better from here. And to all my HHB’s, stay sweet.