Guest Post: DOUBLE CLUTCH Author Liz Reinhardt on Love Triangles (and How She Met Her Husband)

Visual evidence of why love triangles are fascinating.

My book, Double Clutch, is about a lot of different things; growing up, messing up, finding your passions, dealing with hormones, rebellion, love, first crushes. But its stand-out element is the love triangle. It's an element I loved writing, and the one part of the book that brings up the most real-life curiosity. People often ask if the inspiration for Double Clutch came from real life. Were there ever two delicious, amazing guys who adored me, but I just couldn't choose between them?

Um, sadly, the answer is no. 

Sigh!

Well, there wasn't a love triangle involving me and two amazing guys I was head-over-heels in love with. But that didn't mean there wasn't a love triangle of sorts. My love triangle involved a cool guy who I decided wasn't right for really dumb reasons, and the imaginary perfect guy I kept making lists about. (Spoiler alert: I did not end up with an imaginary guy.)

This is a picture of the actual quaint little town I spent many,
many weekends being extremely bored in. Can you see
why I was ready to run, screaming? It would take a
zombie apocalypse to make this place interesting..

When I was in my last year of college I broke up with my long-term boyfriend. We'd been together since I was in high school, and, once we broke it off, I decided I did not want to settle back into another long-term relationship...I wanted to go on tons of dates with lots of amazing guys who were completely mature, college motivated, world traveled and otherwise unlike my high school boyfriend. After five years of going back to my hometown every weekend to eat at the same diners, go see movies at the same theaters, and hang out with the same group of people, I was ready for a huge change. I wanted to go out with different people, experience different things...I wanted a complete 180. 

My parents owned a diner where I had to work most weekends, but I was determined to do my waitressing bit, then get back to college and all the crazy-fun experiences waiting for me there. 

The problem with having parents who own a restaurant is that you never, ever get out early. You're always the one who has to cover when other people call out sick, don't show up, or can't handle the dinner rush. You're always stuck.

It was spring and we were in the thick of prom season. There were so many fun things going on back at college, but I was stuck filling in for all the high school waitresses who were off in their big, glittery dresses eating rubbery chicken and dancing to "Cotton-Eyed Joe" with boys in too-big rented tuxes. I was definitely not in a good mood, and to top my irritation off, the guy who made the burgers at my parents' place cooked every single burger medium-well, despite my detailed notes about how each customer wanted his/her burger cooked on every ticket. 

Hell hath no fury like a waitress with yet
ANOTHER overcooked hamburger complaint.

After the jillionth customer complaint, two milkshakes spilled down my ridiculous poodle skirt, six straight hours on a packed floor with clueless new waitresses, and "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" on repeat thanks to a bunch of fourth graders with a huge handful of quarters lined up at the jukebox, I was in rare form, and all of my anger was going to rain down on the hamburger guy's head.

"YOU!" I screamed, marching back to the grill. The hamburger guy glanced up from under his hat and raised an eyebrow. "WHAT'S UP WITH THE BURGERS?! WHY CAN'T YOU COOK THEM LIKE THE TICKET SAYS?! THE LAST TABLE WANTED RARE!! 'RARE' IS NOT THE SAME AS 'MEDIUM-WELL'!!" I was foaming at the mouth, wild-eyed, frustrated, over-worked, tired, and it was all being directed at this hamburger guy (whose name I never learned. Why bother? They quit and got replaced so often, it wasn't worth the effort to ask their names.)

"Why aren't you at college?" he asked in a perfectly calm voice, flipping a burger and pressing down on it with his spatula, exactly the way you're NOT supposed to. It makes them dry.

His question caught me off guard. So did his eyes. Very, very blue with lashes so curly, they were almost feminine. Gorgeous.

"I, uh, have to cover for prom." I reached out and took the spatula before the burger dried out completely. I noticed he had great, strong-looking hands. "Don't press on them like that. It makes them hard and dried out."

He smiled. He had a gap between his front teeth. Adorable. "I'm not really a great burger cook. My brother dragged me here when the last guy quit. So, what do you study? At college?"

"Women's studies." I handed him back the spatula, trying not to stare at his hands. "And art history."

"Cool. What do you do for fun when you're here?" He was about to press down on the burger again, but he looked over at me and tapped his spatula on the side of the grill instead.

My tables were waiting. Particularly the one that was begging for salmonella poisoning with their all-rare order. Usually I was on my A-game when I waitressed. But I made lame excuses in my head and bought another minute with him.

"Just the usual. Going to movies, eating out." Was he fishing for a date?

"Not here, right?" He grinned. "At least not while I'm cooking?"

"You're not that bad. I actually like my burgers medium well," I lied. He chuckled, and I felt the rush of something I couldn't put my finger on in the back of my mind. "There's a new sushi place that looks good." A sushi place in our one-horse town was pretty much the height of restaurant sophistication.

"I know it." He flipped another burger, his eyes on the patties he was cooking to death. "We should go sometime."

No crush I developed in my tiny little town would work!
It would end in disaster! DISASTER!

"You like sushi?" I tried not to act too surprised. Guys who burn hamburgers can like raw fish.

"Never had it. First time for everything, though, right?" And then that smile again!

I realized that I had all the tell-tale signs of a new crush; dry mouth, pattering heart, sweaty palms. 

But NO! I could NOT be into the burger guy at my parents' diner! I needed to date lots of people! I needed to go into the city and have wild, amazing adventures! I needed to go back to college!

So I brushed him off, because I was in love with the idea of meeting other guys and going on dates that were exciting...like NYC night club exciting, not small town sushi restaurant exciting.

But it wasn't that easy to brush him off. The guys at college were fun and nice. We went to great restaurants and amazing clubs. We talked about classes, professors, politics, high-brow things that made me feel sophisticated. And kind of bored.

I'm not saying we can't be friends if you don't know the
adorably hilarious characters in this picture...
I'm just saying I might pop in a Storyteller DVD
while we're hanging out and attempt to
indoctrinate you, subtly of course.
You will be a better person for it! Trust me!

I found myself looking forward to my nights at the diner with Hamburger Guy. I wanted to talk about our mutual love for The Jim Henson Hour, Pearl Jam, and movie theater hot dogs. I admired his work ethic, intelligence, and his mouth. You know when you can just tell someone is going to be an amazing kisser? I knew with him from the first time he smiled at me.

I finally gave up on this idea that I had to find the perfect person at college, far away from my hometown. I decided to date Hamburger Guy for the summer. Then I'd go back to my original plan.

So there was a summer full of late night movies, driving around listening to mix CD's, bonfires, talking for hours, and lots of kissing. When fall came and school started again, I went on dates with other guys, but spent most of my time wanting to be with Hamburger Guy.

Finally, slowly, I came to the realization that my original plan was kind of ridiculous. And I stopped going on dates with other people just because I felt like it was what I should do. Hamburger Guy and I spent more time together.

We ate a lot of sushi. Well, I did. He ate anything that didn't have raw fish in it and stopped to get cheeseburgers from McDonald's after he dropped me off, he later confessed. We went to museums and CD stores (back when there were CD stores), Cape Cod and Friendly's. And it was always ridiculously fun.

Awww. The end!

Eventually I forgot that I ever had some weird list of requirements for the person I loved. Why would I have wanted a guy with a college degree when I could have one who shared my love for John Hughes and his film-making genius? And what did it matter if a guy was world traveled when Hamburger Guy made a drive around the county fun? I stopped being so stubborn about what I wanted out of a relationship, and faced the fact that I'd pretty much lost the ability to happily date other people the night he smiled at me over a grill full of over-cooked hamburgers.

Oh, and I also eventually stopped thinking of him as Hamburger Guy, especially since his stint professionally cooking hamburgers ended many years ago. But it was mainly because I really wanted to say yes when he proposed, but didn't want to think of myself as 'Mrs. Hamburger Guy.' And, to this day, he really does still make a fairly crappy hamburger...but I love him anyway.

Where to find Liz:

Blog

Twitter

Facebook

Goodreads

Where to find her YA novel
DOUBLE CLUTCH:

Amazon Kindle

B&N Nook