We arrived at the Pie and scoped out the scene—there were no available tables. As we were waiting for a table to open up so we could sit down and then order our food, a couple of guys called out to us. "Hey, you can come sit with us!" I tried to explain politely (though not soo much) that there really wasn’t any room for three girls at the small table they were inhabiting. So they said to me, "Well, there’s room for one. You can sit right here" (he says as he pats his lap). Needless to say, I was most definitely not impressed. Luckily, I was able to easily get out of the situation, because just as he finished his sentence, a table clear on the other side of the restaurant (thankfully) opened up. And we promptly left that scene.

We went to our table and the girls delegated me to go and order the pizza. I went up to order, and the cashier took my order and then asked for my name (so they could call it out when our pizza was done), and then he proceeded to ask for my number. I almost fell for it, and started spitting out my number, and then I realized that it was his cheap attempt at a pickup line. Again, not impressed. And then (as if it wasn’t enough with the two previous pickups), someone said to me from behind, "Why didn’t you come to sit with us?" Sleaze-boy number one, and his friend, had returned. We chatted for a minute, mostly consisting of me trying to get away and back to my roomies, and then the friend said to me, "Hey, I know you." I tried to tell him that he really doesn’t, and he argued with me that I was in one of his classes. And when I asked him which class, he said, "Oh, you know, that one class." I asked him if he went to the U and he said "Yeah!" all enthusiastically (like he thought I was actually buying his BS). And I said to him, "Well then, it would be a little tricky for me to be in ‘that one class’ with you considering I go to BYU, wouldn’t it?" I shot him straight down (again), but he and his friend just didn’t get it. They asked me again if I wanted to come sit with them, and when I said no, one asked me well did I want to just make out then? I flatly (and quite rudely, deservedly) refused him and rushed back to my seat to tell the girls all about what had just happened with all those creepy boys.

And just as I finished telling them the story, a handsome stranger eyed me and walked by with his two friends and sat at the table diagonally from ours. The first thought that went through my head was, "Oh great, not another one." I was completely disgusted with the entire male gender by this time. But as the evening went on, my anger and disgust slowly melted as I engaged in a full-fledged flirt-fest with the handsome stranger at the next table over. We stared and gazed at each other, ever so subtly, until he got up to go to the restroom. As he walked by and glanced down at me, I raised my eyebrows up from my glass (as I sipped Sprite through the straw), not quite as subtly.

This gazing and glancing and facial-flirting continued until we were done eating. We packed up and prepared to leave for the night. I had fun with this guy, but it was just a game I was playing, that I had played so many times before with cute guys.

We stood up to leave, and Bob Marley’s "No Woman, No Cry" came on the jukebox. Anyone who knows me knows that I adore Bob Marley, and so I persuaded my girls to stay just until the end of the song. Anyone who knows the handsome stranger knows that he also adores Bob Marley. I, however, didn’t know him. But he heard me talk about how much I loved Bob Marley, and he told his friends, "She likes Bob Marley. No girls in Utah like Bob Marley! We’ve got to talk to her!"

So handsome stranger sent his friend to come talk to me. "What are you guys doin’," he asked me. I rolled my eyes and replied, "We’re going home; it’s 1:30 in the morning and we have to drive to Provo." Upon hearing this, friend number2 said to us, “You guys live in Provo? We live in Orem. I go to UVSC, and he goes to BYU." He pointed to handsome stranger. They thought this might impress us. It did not really. We shrugged our shoulders at each other and sat back down at our table. After a few moments of awkward silence, I went over to the table of the boys and sat down next to friend number1 (he was the closest to where I was sitting). After a few moments of talking, he left to make a call, and handsome stranger slid over next to me.

"Are you a dancer?"” he asked me.
"Yeah, how’d you know?"
"I could just tell, from the way you were sitting, and from the way you just couldn’t sit still the whole time I was watching you, and from the way you walked over here just now. I used to be a dancer myself. I can always tell when someone’s a dancer. So do you go to BYU?"
I replied to his inquiry. "Yeah, you do too, huh?"
"Yeah, I just got off my mission four months ago, so it’s my first semester there."
"Oh, where’d you serve your mission?"
"In Barcelona, Spain. The rest of these guys are some of my mission buddies. By the way, my name’s James."
"I’m Catherine. Nice to meet you."