We'll Never Have "Star Wars"

Years ago, my sister collaborated with a friend of hers to set me up on a date with the friend's older sister, the belief being that we had a great deal in common and would enjoy one another's company. Which, rumor has it, is really the point of setting up friends on a date.

Truth be told, this girl and I didn't share too much in common and focused on small talk on our first date right until the point when I mentioned I was working on my own Star Wars fan film (true story, ladies!)—and, after that, Star Wars was all we could talk about. She asked me a lot of questions about my movie and seemed genuinely interested in the project. And that was just the tip of the iceberg. In fact, I would venture to say that she was a much more devoted Star Wars fan than even yours truly.

I couldn't believe my good luck.

That being said, sharing a love for all things Star Wars is not enough by itself, unfortunately, to sustain a successful relationship (not that I know what one of those might be anyway). A handful of additional dates confirmed this belief.

Fast forward to this past Sunday on the Island of Misfit Toys. The aforementioned Star Wars girl is, in fact, now a member of my ward. At Linger Longer after the block, I spotted her over by the snack table and endeavored to begin a conversation.

"Have you seen the new Star Wars trailer?" I asked her, because of course she had seen it. Of course! "What did you think?"

"I'm not really into that stuff anymore," she replied, after which she picked up her plate, took a few steps in another direction, and continued to eat, standing next to and talking instead to . . . no one.

Insert shot of my Death Star exploding.

We'll never have Star Wars.