Double Date

Back when I was straight (or at least trying to convince myself as such), I went on a date with my friend Joyce to see Hall and Oates in concert. They were playing at the BYU Marriott Center. Corey “Mr. Sunglasses at Night” Hart as the opening act. It was bound to be a great evening, and it better well have been since we had to drive an hour to get there.

We descended the cool concrete steps of the arena into the sea of blue plastic seats. Joyce sat to my right. Some BYU guy sat on my left with his girlfriend to the left of him. The lights went dim. The music started.

After way too much Corey Hart, Hall and Oates came on to the stage to the wild applause of the crowd. They kicked off with their opening number. We sat down for the show and my knee brushed the knee of BYU guy. No biggie. It happens that way.

They sang “Rich Girl” but changed the words “bitch girl” to something more appropriate for their G-Rated audience. It so happened that one of them was not-so-G-Rated as the leg brush soon turned to a game of footsie. Joyce and BYU Guy’s girlfriend both listened happily and obliviously—clapping and singing along to “Maneater.”

“Your Kiss is On My List” led to a match of pinky wrestling and by the time they got to “Sara Smile,” BYU Guy and I were standing, holding hands, swaying with the rest of the crowd, unbeknownst to the girls at our sides. We sat back down, feeling guilty yet titillated. I can’t go for that—No Can Do!

When the concert ended, my new friend and I just looked at each other with a plaintive parting gaze as he disappeared into the crowd.

“She’s Gone” played in my head as Joyce and I—along with a strange, newfound desire to enroll at BYU—drove home.