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