The Unforgettable First Date

Jasen and I originally dated in high school. He was my first "real boyfriend." The first boy my parents let me ride in a car with, yadda yadda yadda.
The first time he picked me up in his 1973 white-with-blue-interiour220D Mercedes I felt smitten. I loved that car already. It smelled like vanilla sex wax. With maybe a hint of beer.
Young redneck took me to a nice restaurant, Carvers, in Greenbrier. He ate like he'd grown up with 12 older brothers, guarding his food like a pit bull. I was half-way through picking at my food when he sat back, grabbed his non-existent belly, and let out the loudest belch I'd ever heard.
It's important to note a little tidbit about my upbringing at this point. I took manners classes. We're talking enough silverware to make you dizzy, walking with a book on your head, and learning the exact way to cross you ankles and let your server know you're finished with the salad plate. Insanity. But educational.
So imagine my surprise when my date, the boy I'd stared at for years, burped, and then smiled "Sorry. Had to make room for more." He then took my plate, and scarfed it down. Nice.
Before we left, Jasen began eyeing the leftover bread in the center of the table. "Hey. Put these in your purse."
Who IS this guy? "Are you kidding me? You must be kidding me. Absolutely not!" I remember the tingling heat on my cheeks. The urge to run away. No wonder my dad took one look at him and handed me a $5 for a taxi home.
Apparently Jasen didn't need my purse. His pants would suffice. He stuffed countless rolls down his Ralph Laurens, left some cash on the table, and hobbled to the door. Lovely.
It was chilly that night, and the car wouldn't start. He was the first person I knew to have a cell phone. That sucker was so big it pulled the back of his pants down. But he refused to call my dad.
"It's no problem. Listen...I'm going to spray some ether under the hood. You hold this button until the car starts." Excellent. We're going to blow ourselves up, right here in the parking lot. And I'm freezing in this skirt.
Apparently, I didn't know when to let my finger off of the button. He yelled at me. My dream boy friggin yelled at me! After that night I realized no one in perfect. Even the boy I stared at. He wasn't perfect. Best date ever.