We all have dates we will never forget; the Pinnacle staff is no different.  In honor of this past Valentine’s Day, they reveal some of their most indelible (and most embarrassing!) dates.  Enjoy getting to know some of the dirtier details of the Pinnacle staff’s love lives:

The Massacre of Marcus’ Face

“Memorable to me can mean many things. I have had dates that I got sick on; dates that didn’t go so well; and I have one date that is just plain special. That date is the first date between my now fiancé and I. We went to see Pirates of the Caribbean after talking for a couple weeks and I’ll never forget our first kiss. It was electric, but only due to the future I thought I had with this girl. Six years and two beautiful babies later, and it looks like I was right.

Now, I wouldn’t feel right giving you some sappy story like that without some laughs. So fast forward about three months into one of our other dates. I was going to see her for the first time in about a week and we were both ecstatic. I needed to look my best. So, naturally, that meant getting a fresh fade and looking right. So I went to the barbershop and a few snips later I was good to go. But, seeing as how this was extra special, I needed to go a step further. I had never had my eyebrows done after numerous pitches by the lady, but this time, I gave in. One pull of the wax strip later and I knew I was screwed.

I looked up into the mirror to see horror and disgust. I was missing half of my f***ing eyebrow! I was bleeding! She took skin! Man, oh man, what in the hell was I going to do? I showed up that night and I walked with her to the park (we were 19 and 17 years old) and we sat on a bench talking the night away. Here is the kicker: the entire time I made sure she was on my left side so she didn’t notice the chunk of my face missing. Success. Six years later and she swears she can’t remember the massacre of Marcus’ face.” — Marcus Montoya; News Editor

Reading Too Much Into You

“My most memorable date isn’t exactly eventful, but it’s endearing.

To give some quick background — this girl I was very interested in seeing had recently moved down here to Denver from Wyoming.  We had met online after she moved here and she was in the process of breaking up with her then-boyfriend.  We had arranged to meet for the first time in a public place and have our first “date” as well.

So queue the bookstore: The Tattered Cover in downtown Denver.  We met up with each other, introduced ourselves, and proceeded with the date.  We wandered the store, pointing out books we had read, authors we recognized, books we wanted. We had already discussed the idea of reading with each other during the date and that’s exactly what we did.  We picked up books we thought were interesting and ended up curled up in our own little chairs, reading the first chapters.

We ended up picking out books for each other and bought them.  I loved the thought of this.

The rest of our date was us walking around downtown for several hours, carrying our respective books, and exploring parts of the city we were unfamiliar with.

We were only officially together for a week and did end up breaking up after she went completely ‘ghost’ on me, but it was still a lovely date” –Scott Bright; Editor-in-Chief

Broncos’ Games and Biker Gangs

“Well, I have a favorite one and an unusual one.

My favorite is the blind date I had with my husband of 30 years (in May of this year).  Our bosses knew each other and they combined company picnics and set us up.  One of my bosses gave us Bronco tickets for a Colts-Broncos game.  It started raining on the way to the game but we went anyway.  It drizzled throughout the game, but we had seats under the upper stadiums so we stayed dry.  The Broncos shut out the Colts that day.  My husband had never been to a major league football game like that, so it was extra fun for him.

My unusual and therefore memorable one was also a blind date (before I met my husband).  I peeked out the window as he was arriving: he was on a Harley Davidson, dressed in head-to-toe black leather with chains and all the flair.  I had a baseball hat and shorts on.  We went on a motorcycle ride and I felt very out of place — especially later when meeting up with his biker friends.  Although I know I looked like a dork, I still had fun.  Nobody said anything to me or treated me differently, not even my date.  He was nice, but it wasn’t a match for keepers. But the biker dudes were very nice.” —Vicki Johnson; Political Reporter

Bad Boys, Bad Boys

“I was dating the sheriff’s son, who was a bad boy, of course — but he had a caring heart with a wild streak.  We went for a drive off on county roads, some 20 some miles away from town and parked.  We could talk for hours under the light of the Arizona moon and stars.  We were actually an exhibitionist couple. We were caught by the Border Patrol, with only enough time to drape clothing over ourselves.  Of course he knew them; they just wanted to check and make sure we weren’t broke down in that ol’ 1950’s Dodge Ram truck.  Oh God, I wonder what they saw when they first drove by?  Embarrassment was stuck all over my face, which was very red, as he shot-the-sh*t with them. All I could do was sit quietly and not move as I gazed out my side of the window, trying to hide my face.” –Katie Wamsley; Health Reporter

Crested Butte-y

“My favorite date — the one that sticks out in my mind — is undoubtedly the trip my girlfriend and I went on last summer. We had decided to take a weekend excursion before I started my summer semester here at ACC, and were having trouble picking a destination. Our selection was narrowed down to Crested Butte or Steamboat Springs, and after a coin-toss we were en route to Crested Butte. See, the great thing about going to a skiing town when there’s no snow is that the town is nearly empty. The hotel I booked was typically super busy and expensive but I got an unbelievable price and only saw a couple other guests. After a long drive and a relaxing first night, Miranda and I were charged up for our hike. A half an hour drive further up into the mountains, a beautiful meadow came into view. I watched intently as she walked through the flowers, sunlight pouring over the mountain peaks on either side of us. I’ve only seen her smile like that a handful of times. I had a blast on that trip, and I’ll never forget it.” —Bryden Smith; Counter-Culture Reporter

Snakes and Scooters

“His name was Jonas, a hippie student in Annapolis, Maryland. I was 19, a wannabe filmmaker, but was spending my summer as a dishwasher for a local diner.

My summer days consisted of getting high before work, then daydreaming over mountains of dishes, soap, and grime. The 40-something chef continually played Slayer at ’11’ while making comments about my ass.

I was aching for a change of scenery, but had no idea how. Back then happiness was just another tattoo or piercing away. To this day, I miss how many cigarettes I could smoke with seemingly no ill effects at all.  

Jonas and I met at a community theater show. I tried to impress him with my knowledge of Ingmar Bergman films; I guess it worked because numbers were exchanged and a date was set. This was all before Facebook and Tinder dominated love lives.

I forgot what I wore, but Jonas wore a pillowcase for a shirt. Like, he had a patterened pillowcase, and cut three holes for the arms and head. His originality impressed me, but I was also a little embarrassed.

No matter though, he took me to local vegetarian restaurant where they played live jazz. I think it was my first ever meal without meat; I adored the taste despite the gaseous after effects I suffered later in private. TMI? Well, tough. This is a date story.

Later he introduced me to his baby boa constrictor. His name was Socrates, but pronouced ‘So-crates’ like in ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’. It cracks me up to this day.

With So-crates wrapped around my arm, he drove us both to Sandy Point State Park on his little motor scooter. We snuck in after-hours and skinny dipped in the beach. So-crates waited by the scooter.

While floating in the water, Jonas commented that most of the girls he dated were ‘pretty artsy.’ My heart sank. I was artsy, but I didn’t want to be ‘just another girl.’

Our clothes (or in Jonas’ case, his pillowcase) clung to our clammy skins on the ride back to his place. He invited me up to his apartment roof to smoke hookah and drink cheap red wine from the bottle. We debated about something or other while watching people stroll below us in the city.

We made out and pawed at each other in his non air-conditioned, stuffy bedroom. He asked if he could go further, I said ‘not this time.’ I was worried about the stigma of putting-out on the first date.

They say that we never go to our deathbeds wishing we had less sex. In this case, 29 year old me wishes I had gotten laid that night. I guess 19-year-old me wasn’t ready, so I’ll have to respect that.

We decided to sleep separately; I took the couch because it had some AC. I stayed up til 4AM reading his collection of graphic novels, which isn’t too dissimilar from my sleeping habits now.

Over the summer we lost touch because of the usual mundane reasons of getting distracted, or moving on to other things. The following September he surprised me with a phone call. I delighted over catching up with him, and asked when we could meet again in person.

‘I’d love to hang out, but full disclosure, I have a new girlfriend now.’ Without skipping a beat I responded, ‘I don’t care! We can just be friends.’ And I meant it, I really just wanted to have another adventure with him again.” — Nico Danks; Counter-Culture Editor

Have your own unforgettable dates? Let us know in the comments below!