When Date Night Goes Wrong

First of all, a setting of the scene: 


I finished with my last college final EVER last night. I was wandering around campus, feeling relieved and sad at the same time, and generally carrying on. After a while of that, I was ready to go, so I called my husband, who informed me that he could not pick me up because I had, indeed, driven myself to campus.


Right. Yes. 


Which tells you how the rest of the story is going to go.

So then, after dinner I decided my heart was set on nothing else but visiting Utah Lake that night. I mean, I had never been before, and wasn't that a shame since we lived so close to it, and could we please go?? For the sake of connecting with nature and fulfilling a lifelong dream I didn't know I had until now?? Pleeeease?


He warned me. He said it would smell, and that the water was gross. 


I have what some people call the Taylor Streak {euphemism for "I come from a family of very strong-willed women, once we put our mind to it." Which is a good thing... right?}, so I declared we had to go. My way or the highway, but in a nicer tone of course. Right?

So we went. And sure enough.

1. Gnats.
2. Smelled bad.
3. Sketchy people doing things Every Mother Would Frown At.

We went down to a pier, and I got my camera out, to take pictures that I knew would turn out magically, because hellllooooo, sunset on a pier! Just in time for four people, and four large bikes, and one dog named Herc to make its way onto our pier.

They asked us to take a picture of them. Cue 10 minutes of trying to get all their bikes to fit in one shot, and coaxing the dog to sit for Posterity with lots of high-pitched baby calls.} I took the blasted picture. And then another one for them. And by that time the sun had set.

Then they stayed on the pier, which is fine, and I'm all about sharing and promoting general good-will, but it made the pier rock back and forth unpleasantly, and mostly I spent my time keeping the camera bag away from the drooly dog. How's that for a run-on sentence! Also, did I mention there were tons of empty piers around us?

This is how most of our pictures turned out {I blame disorientation}:

And then there was a few more minutes of trying to keep the camera bag away from a drooly dog, and creatively inching past the people and their bikes {who practically decided to move in permanently on our pier}, and trying not to admit that Sam was right all along.

And so we threw in the towel (read: we laughed and I tried not to look too sheepish and what we really wanted to throw was the dog in the lake).

The end.

Moral of the story: gnats and dogs named Herc always mean trouble.

P.S. Check out this vintage copy of Gone with the Wind. I kind of ordered it on accident, but it turned out super cool. Right? And this proves that not all my ideas are bad ones, right??