Background: I’m at BYU, post-mission. This would have to have occurred in the winter semester of 1999, so around February or March. A few months previous to this, I had ended a relationship with Amy (not her name). She was a great girl, but I just didn’t feel the spark after three months or so. After meeting her parents, I realized I couldn’t commit for the long haul, so better to cut bait (yea, mixed metaphors!).
Story: On the first day of Political Science 100, I sat in the front row. Those of you who don’t know me are thinking “Wow, m was studious!” or “Gee, m has a keen interest in politics!”. Of course, the latter is true now, but it wasn’t then. The former is laughable where I’m concerned.
No, the reason I chose to sit on the front row had long, brown hair and nearly made me drop my books, she was so hot (FYI, I did not marry this woman. When I first saw h, my wife, I literally decided to just keep walking, thinking there was no way in heck I would have a chance. Thankfully, I went back). So, I walked up, sat down and introduced myself.
Keep in mind, I was a shy guy. This wasn’t a Don Juan come-on type thing. I think I just said “Hi” and relied on her to keep the conversation going for the first two classes. But, eventually, my confidence started to grow. I helped her with a couple of computer things, for which she was grateful, and one morning, she even made me pancakes and eggs!
In a normal person, this would indicate that she was interested in me. Given that we sat next to each other every class, hung out after class as much as we could and emailed quite a bit, a normal man as interested as me would have not hesitated to ask her on a date and make things more official.
But, I’m not your normal, everyday guy. I was still nervous and afraid of being rejected. Which is why what happened did, in fact, happen.
One Friday night, I think, I was sitting in my apartment with my roommates watching TV when, lo and behold, Amy comes over. I had been feeling especially vulnerable where Hot Poly-Sci Chick was concerned, so this was good news to me. She joined our TV watching group and, before I knew it, we were cuddling and holding hands and stuff.
That’s when we heard the knock on the door.
When I look back, I realize a number of things led to this disaster. Our policy of shouting “Come in!” instead of opening the door ourselves is one thing. Another would be my being too lazy to get my fat rear off the couch when somebody comes over. Because, as I yelled the aforementioned phrase and just sat there in the arms of my ex, I had a funny feeling. Who walks in, as though she had read my mind and knew I needed some show of affection from her? Hot Poly-Sci Chick. With a plate of cookies. And a Hallmark Card declaring her undying love for me.
Okay, that last part isn’t true, but that’s the only way it could be worse. No sooner did I hear her voice say “Is m here?” than I practically crushed Amy as I leapt over her in my haste to show that nothing was going on. Of course HPSC saw what was going on and basically tossed her cookies (HA!) at me and left. She was much calmer than that and handled it with a fair amount of dignity, but I could tell she was pretty upset.
I passed it off as though I didn’t care in front of Amy, because I didn’t know what would happen and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. After she left, I basically took various implements, alternatingly sharp and dull, to my skull for most of the night (or as my father-in-law says “Set my hair on fire and put it out with a frying pan”). I was astounded at what I had done.
The next Poly-Sci class, she was sitting a few rows back on the other side of the auditorium, chatting with some guy. I returned to my old seat and basically weeped, wailed and gnashed my teeth. I didn’t bother to call her or explain, which I now think was stupid of me. I think I could have explained it to her and she would have been okay with it.
Probably the funniest thing about this is that she worked for the University doing those calls where they solicit money from Alumni. Every time I get one of those calls (twice every year), I remember what an idiot I was.
But, I’m glad it worked out the way it did. h is about infinity times better for me than HPSC and I can’t imagine my life without her. Plus, those were some fine cookies.
Lesson learned: Don’t sell your birthright for a mess of pottage. Or your ex.