1 July 2008: Provo, Utah

The Provo Challenge: Day Seven

I had told Lenora before I left the house the previous night that I was "maybe" going back to their place. It's not like that maybe was ever really a maybe, and in the morning I woke up to Lenora getting some things together in her room.

Note the many scandalous elements involved in this situation. For one, the fact that she was in a bedroom with a dude is, I do believe, grounds for expulsion according to the BYU honor code. Prior to Friday morning, at the scene of the Mormon regret, I'm not sure Lenora had ever been in a bedroom with a dude before. This would have made #2.

More than that, I was in bed. In bed, I tell you! Do you have any idea how close she was to accidentally getting into bed with me? This is no laughing matter. Hell, I wasn't even wearing a shirt!

Anyway, she took it all in stride-- and really, this was a pretty scandalous situation for a female BYU student. I got up and gave her a hug, we said good-bye, and she left. And that was it.

Boy, I'll tell you, it was a pretty abrupt good-bye-- pretty abrupt for me, in all honesty, let alone this girl who had just experienced Mormon flirtation, Mormon foreplay, a Mormon make out, Mormon charm, Mormon regret, a Mormon come-hither, a Mormon hook up, Mormon infidelity AND Mormon cock-frigidity in the span of five days. There was obviously more to this.

In the early afternoon Nerina left too, so I decided to head to campus and have a relaxing day-- technically the first during my time in Provo.

There isn't much to speak of for my final day in Provo in that sense-- really, I was pretty tired and it wasn't so much like I had missed stuff to do on a Tuesday afternoon. But while the day was pretty inconsequential, some text messages did reveal a few things about Lenora.

me: "I don't know what happened last night but I wish the past twelve hours had been more like the first five days."

Lenora: "I know, me too. I'm sorry."

(Whoa. What's this?)

me: "What was it? You obviously were upset about something."

Lenora: "I don't know. Really."

(OK, there really must be more to this.)

me: "Is it because of the 'romantic walk'? Is that why you mentioned your overload of dates?"

Lenora: "Most of the things you mentioned last night I hadn't thought of."

(Well, now I'm confused...)

me: "I'm stumped, but the rules don't apply to me. A walk with a girl isn't the first step towards marriage, it's just a way to hang out with people."

Lenora: "No, I know you like meeting people. Maybe it's because I like you but cant."

(Ah, forbidden love.)

Lenora: "You're not here, and I won't be either. I promised myself not to like a guy like that until after my mission."

Well, I guess there you have it.

So that's where Lenora was coming from. As far as Nerina, she was trying to convince me to stay another day. I was pretty against this idea. For one thing, staying another day would mean being there Wednesday night, which would mean another country dance. Regardless of whether or not Lenora really did have three dates-- since it might have been a ploy-- I wasn't too crazy about the idea of another one. I've already said that the second country dance had lost nearly all of the charm that the first one had, and going to a third would have killed the fun even more and risked ruining the memory of the first. Not a good idea.

More importantly, though, if I left the following morning it would mean I had rolled into town on a Wednesday and rolled out the Wednesday after. I felt like a full week in Provo was a pretty fitting duration for the Provo Challenge, and were I to stay an eighth day I'd have to stay for days nine through fourteen as well. That wasn't going to happen.

So this was to be my final day in Provo. And I was more than happy spending it sleeping in the library. So there.

(Although not before I asked Kirsten, the girl from church, if she wanted to get lunch. Her response, "I'm in Salt Lake at a concert with my boyfriend." So there's that answer.)

When it began to get dark I headed to the house I was at the night before to see about the bonfire. On the walk over there were some voices and the smell of a fire coming from the woods, and I went to check it out. It was another bonfire-- I'm telling you, bonfires are right up there with dancing when it comes to Mormons-- in honor of some girl's birthday, but the fire was nearly out and everyone was getting ready to go home. It was 11:00 on a summer night. Some of these kids really do need to step it up a notch once in a while.

Anyway, I got to the house and pretty soon we all went outside to start the bonfire. Now, by bonfire I should clarify that it was basically a little fire circle with a few planks of wood and a TON of kerosene. Not exactly the "bonfire up the mountain" that I had been looking for, but it was still the same idea I guess.

The two stars of the show at the bonfire were these kids Janelle and Richard. Janelle is in love with Richard and thinks no one knows it but, as you might expect, everyone knows it. Maybe everyone including Richard, but I'm not positive. Most of the people at the bonfire, though, think that Richard is an asshole, and were OK saying this because Richard hadn't arrived and Janelle was in the other room.

And, well, Richard was pretty much a douche to Janelle, and kinda an asshole in general. But he was pretty funny and interesting enough to talk to, so I guess he wasn't terrible. But, without a doubt, Richard failed the "top-five best friend" test with flying colors. So let's keep that in mind.

Anyway, Janelle was pretty interesting in her own right, but solely because of how UNinteresting she really was. Janelle is better known as the Queen of Bad Stories, and though ten minutes of hearing her speak made her the missionary of the bonfire-- that is, I stopped listening to 95% of what she was saying-- I do remember that she literally and actually completely stopped conversation for 23 seconds with "And then she said 'this is "Our Song"' and I said 'what's our song?' and I didn't get it for five minutes." Literally, 23 seconds. I counted.

But, boy, Janelle was a real treat. And persistent. I can't begin to convey the absolute dearth of interest that Richard was showing in her, but she wasn't discouraged at all. And the best part was, the more he alternatingly ignored her and mocked her, the more she tried to flirt with him by acting dumb. Real dumb, like "I studied Darfur so I know for a fact that there's a genocide there."

I've never seen anyone play dumb as effectively as her. Unless she really is that dumb and just plays smart to everyone else.

Sorry, not smart. Smarter.

Anyway, neither Garrett nor John from the previous night were there, so the other person I was mainly talking to-- there were about eight total, including me-- was this girl Hailey, who was the cute and funny one of the group. And not just Mormon cute and funny. Someone asked someone else if he would rather freeze to death or burn to death, and Hailey stepped in and said she'd rather freeze to death because "maybe I'd thaw out." She also told me that "not everyone abstains" from the Big Five of the Honor Code. Sure wish I had met THAT segment of the student body.

So that was my BYU bonfire experience. Like I said, it wasn't the "real thing," and it probably didn't even come that close. But it was just a bunch of BYU students hanging out and talking and telling stories. And making sarcastic comments to and about Janelle. It's like I was a real, true Mormon.

When the bonfire ended everyone dispersed and I decided to go to Denny's to have some coffee and collect my thoughts, this being my last night in Provo. I found a table to myself for a change and was ready to relax and write a little, but a long table to my left was full of people and, well, how can I say no to that? So I picked up my cup and moved to an empty seat.

The first thing to know about this table is that it was the members of a local band and some of their fans and they were having a bit of an after-party, if you will. Or as much as Denny's can be an after-party. So I was dealing with people who, right off the bat, you can assume are friendlier and more open than your typical BYU students.

If that's why the dynamics were as they were, I don't know, but I was literally slaying them for the first ten minutes. After a while, though, and because the table was so long, the two ends split off into seperate conversations. And, sadly, I was at the less interesting end.

So I was telling my stories from the road, and with the hindsight of a week in Provo I had some pretty good ones from Mormon Country, and the conversation was pretty much ho-humming right along.

But then most of the people from my end left and I scooted down to the other end, which had been where most of the talking was coming from during those first ten minutes. And so I went on to repeat pretty much everything that I had just said, but at least this time I was repeating it to a more interesting/interested audience.

Finally the rest of the table got up to leave, and this girl Rachel, who had arrived after me, asked if I needed a place to crash for the night. To be perfectly honest, I suppose I didn't-- after all, the twins had left the key in the mailbox in case I needed to come back. But I had spent a night alone in their house already and felt like a second one was a bit much, even if they had genuinely left that option open for me. Plus, it being the last night, I thought a change of scenery wouldn't be a bad call. So I got in the back seat of one of the band dude's car, with Rachel in shot-gun, and we headed to her apartment.

When we got there Rachel brought out a blanket for me on the couch and was going to go to bed, but she sat down and we started talking.

Now, because Rachel had only arrived a little while before we left Denny's, I hadn't really taken much notice of her. But, let me tell you, she was easily the most beautiful Mormon girl I met during my week in Provo. I can say that 85% without a doubt. And we were hitting it off pretty great.

She asked if I thought a girl could hitch-hike because she's been considering giving it a try, and I said that I thought it would be easier and even safer for a girl, as long as she knew what she was doing. My next project is to race a girl on a hitch across the country and to compare the two experiences, and I thought I might have found a potential partner-in-crime for it.

She asked if I thought it would be smart for her to drink a little while still in college, just so that it wouldn't be too much of a shock once she actually began to drink, and I said that probably wasn't a terrible idea. I thought we almost might have ended up getting something to drink and bringing it back-- although thank God that didn't happen, because I would have lost a week of sleep if I had been the gateway that made her take her first sip.

We maybe talked for an hour once we got back, and Rachel said how she likes the guy who drove us home but that he's not interested in her. I'm telling you, I was money. Or, at the least, I was Mormon money. I was feeling pretty good about ending the night with my hand deep in hers. And maybe even with our fingers intertwined.

And then, wouldn't you know, the dude who drove us home showed up and cock-blocked me. Literally fucking Mormon cock-blocked me. And I didn't even know the Mormon cock-block existed.

A Mormon cock block is, for all intent and purpose, the same thing as a regular cock block. With the one small exception that, instead of blocking a cock, the blocker is blocking a hand-hold. Because, remember, the Mormon cock block would typically happen on the first date, and there's no way in hell anyone's getting even a Mormon make out on the first date.

And that's what happened. I got Mormon cock-blocked so completely I still can't feel my toes. And I didn't even see it coming. The dude knocked on the door and opened it and said to Rachel "I don't want you alone with him." Real chivalrous, you see. And, really man, no offense.

So he came in and sat down, and boy was that the end of it. The true thing about a Mormon cock block is to compare it to a regular cock block in terms of a balloon. When you get regular cock-blocked, the balloon has been filled and tied and someone comes along and sticks a needle in it. You're pissed off, but the balloon's exploded and it's time to move on and get a new balloon.

But when you get Mormon cock-blocked, well, you're still in the process of blowing up the balloon. You're not two seconds away from getting laid, you're still invested in the process of getting to the point where you might consider dating someone that would eventually down the line get you laid. The balloon is nowhere near filled to capacity. So when someone comes along and Mormon cock blocks you, all he's doing is taking the balloon from you and letting the air escape. So you've got to sit there and watch the balloon slowly deflate.

And that's what I did. I sat there while this dude, who said maybe three words the entire time, let all the air escape from my balloon. And all in the name of chivalry. I couldn't fucking believe it.

So finally the guy decided to go to sleep-- another dude who had come over with him was already long since passed out-- and naturally the guy decided to go to sleep on the floor. You know, because he could tell how bold and audacious I was feeling.

And of course when the guy lay down to go to sleep, Rachel got off the couch and grabbed a blanket from her room and decided to sleep on the floor as well. Because, remember, this is the dude who wasn't interested in her. But who apparently is chivalrous as all fuck.

I'm telling you, it was the most authoritative cock block, Mormon or otherwise, in the history of cocks. This dude knew what he was doing. And so Rachel lay down next to him and they fell asleep, literally-and-I'm-not-even-kidding holding hands. Kill me.

I had to walk back to the twins' place to get my stuff in only a few hours, because it was a bit of a walk and I wanted to get the first bus back to Salt Lake City, so I wrote for a little bit and then left. And when I left the apartment Rachel and this dude were spooning. It was literally like he had wanted me to know, before I left Provo, that no heathen is going to parade into HIS town and act like he owns the place. Well played, sir.

And so, having been Mormon pwned, I left Provo.