The Trials of Being a Spaz

When I was 19-years-old, I was in love with a guy in my Biology class. He was hot in that turn-of-the-millennium, Heath Ledger in "Ten Things I Hate About You" way where you ask yourself, "Wait. Is he wearing a shirt with embroidery on it?"

I know that description hasn't aged well, but trust me, he was beautiful. My love for him was a special blend of pure and awkward. I made sure to never enter his zone of attention, but I'd always sit a few seats away so I could look at him approximately 137 times during class. As a high school geek trying to remake herself in college, I was basically an expert at loving someone unrequitedly and I was very happy with my new, imaginary relationship.

One day after class ended, I was shuffling past Hot Bio Boy's seat when he looked up at me and smiled. I was starstruck. I didn't want to look away. So I didn't. And I walked straight into a wall.

This is not an exaggeration! This is something I really did. My secret boyfriend smiled at me and I walked into a wall.

I like to think I did what anyone in my situation would do next. I looked at the wall, then at the ground, sighed, and then shuffled out the door. I made my way to the computer lab where I started planning my new life on a different planet. Because in space, no one can hear you scream.

So here's where my story kind of turns into a John Hughes movie for a second.

Hot Bio Boy followed me into the computer lab. I stopped breathing.

He introduced himself. I stopped blinking.

He asked me out!! I made a weird gurgling noise and nodded my head.

It was a beautiful moment.

THEN we went on a date! On a few dates actually. It was a long time ago and I mostly only remember nodding a lot and trying not to make gurgling noises. I do remember that at one point we wound up at a luau where he entered and won a limbo contest. Oh! And there was another night where we drove up to a secluded little area where you could look out at the city. And there were fireworks going off in the distance. So we just sat and watched the... you know what? I'm just now realizing what he was up to there... Hu... Well, we actually did just sit and look and the city and watch the fireworks and talk, and I thought it was super romantic.

Anyways, after the third date, I started blowing him off. I would avoid him in class and not answer the phone when he called. And then the semester ended and I never saw him again.

I wish I had a more John Hughesy reason for blowing off an adorable boy who was waaaay out of my league, but the truth is, I blew off Hot Bio Boy because I didn't know his name.

I know that's ridiculous. But I was spazzing out too much to pay attention when he first introduced himself, and then three dates went by and I was too embarrassed to ask him what his name was.

Never talking to him again seemed like the only rational thing to do.

I've told this story a lot over the years, so I kind of know what questions you're shouting at me through the internet void. First of all, the Biology teacher did do a roll call at the beginning of every class. But Hot Bio Boy didn't go by the name on the roll. At one point, I even went up to the Biology teacher after class with a made up question so that I could try to look at the roll and see if there was maybe a middle name listed, but that was an utter failure.

Why didn't I ask him to repeat his name on our first date? Ya. That's a fair question. You see, I was a socially awkward 19-year-old who didn't realize that real life isn't an episode of Seinfeld and real people are actually supposed to be straight forward. Also, I really did spend an inordinate amount of energy on that first date just trying not to spill or run into anything.

Finally, the question that every person under thirty and no person over thirty asks me: "Why didn't you google him?" Ah, to have been able to Facebook stalk Hot Bio Boy. I would have so many Hot Bio babies by now.

And that, boys and girls, is how social media actually benefits society.

*This post is sponsored by Social Media*

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