I met a nice guy at a bar once. Actually, we met at what my university calls a ‘soph pub,’ which is essentially an opportunity for student Orientation Week volunteers to get together and flail to “Since U Been Gone.” We talked for a bit, he walked me home, and then we went our separate ways. There was no exchange of numbers, and no assurance that we would see each other again. That was fine by me, as of course I didn’t expect a lasting connection from an evening of dancing to early 2000s pop music. I quite liked him though, and I hoped to see him again, but since I hadn’t seen him before that night I didn’t know when to expect a run in.
I finally ran into him a few weeks later. Western students like to go to the on-campus bar on Wednesdays to see a man named Rick McGhie play the same songs from the sixties and seventies week after week. I was unprepared for a run in, so I was wearing a large knitted sweater with a gnome on it. It’s like an ugly Christmas sweater, but made for year round wear. We made awkward casual conversation, and I came away from the encounter baffled by my inability to say something normal.
I was prepared to chalk that up as a loss when I ran into him only a few days later! I wasn’t wearing knitwear of any sort this time, which meant that I looked relatively normal. As it happens though, I was a bit frazzled because I had to write an essay and study for a midterm and I only had a few days to do both. I had picked up a bag of baby carrots and a bag of apples, and I was hoping that those would fuel me for the hours of work I had ahead of me. I was undecided about saying anything to him, but he acknowledged me first. We talked a bit about what we had to do that day, and I said, “If you’re around here later, you can come study with me. I have apples!” He thanked me for my offer, and I went along my way. As I sat down to study, I thought about our conversation. Come study with me, I have apples?! I had never said anything so ridiculous before, especially not as a pick up attempt. I killed any chance I had had, all because I insisted on sharing my bounty of produce.
We ran into each other once more, and this time I was determined that we would have a normal conversation, just to prove to myself that we could. We talked about hockey and Frank Ocean, and everything went quite well. I walked away feeling pleased with myself, until I realized that I was wearing a denim vest and a Tupac style bandana.
That was the end of my pick up attempts. We see each other around sometimes, at soph pubs and Rick’s nights, but we talk infrequently. At this point, it’s better to forget that the whole thing happened. And if we ever do decide to study together, I’ll be sure to bring oranges instead.
Song of the Day: Harper Lee by Little Green Cars
