In my junior year of high school, a boy invited me on a date. He picked up a Redbox movie and cooked a pizza. We were watching the movie and then the oven beeped so the pizza was finished. He looked me dead in the eye and said, “This is the worst part.” I then saw him open the oven and take the pizza out with his unprotected hands, including the rack, shouting at the top of his lungs. We never went on a second date.