Wait, let me explain…
It is not that I am unfriendly, objectionable, or even rebellious. It is just that I am very unlucky at love. Also, I have the mighty power of invisibility.
Like that time in college. First day of class. I arrived prudently early and picked a desk around the middle. It was one of those classrooms shaped like an amphitheater with a pulpit and a big green chalkboard at the bottom. The teacher was not there yet, but I’d say the class was more than half full already. We were so young, with our brand-new messenger bags and empty notebooks, sitting tightly on those ancient wooden chairs, feeling that weird mix of apprehension and anticipation.
I opened my notebook and started writing as neatly as possible, first the date, then the name of the class. And then it happened. “Is this seat taken?” He asked. “Yes, no, yes! I mean, you can take it.” Oh, was he handsome! His hair was dark and short, and his smile was neat and confident, shining brightly against his tanned skin. I learned later he was a surfer boy, so that explained it. He sat next to me and started rummaging around in his bag. His hands were big and his fingers long, and he wore a few colorful seed bead bracelets. When the teacher arrived, he was still trying to find petroleum in there, and the very moment the teacher started talking, he slightly touched my arm and murmured: “Can I borrow a pen?” I quickly gave him one of my multiple spares. “And some paper?” He smiled playfully, and my brain started producing some very steamy mental images involving both of us and things that most probably had never been done in that classroom. I was eighteen, ok? Hormones were running wild throughout my body!
Forty-five excruciating minutes later, the teacher finally shut up, and he offered to buy me coffee to thank me for the pen and the notebook that once were mine and now were his. So there we were, walking next to each other across campus, sipping coffee and talking as if we were Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, when… “Oh my god, isn’t it a coincidence? Hi!” That was my roommate. I had only known her for a week, and I couldn’t be sure, but It was pretty clear that she had been both prom queen and valedictorian at the same time. Maybe she was also the daughter of some Hollywood superstar. Even worse, I could not resent her because she was kind and gentle, and sweet as a Disney princess.
And then it was when I became invisible. It was like his eyes were stuck on her, along with his smile. I made some introductions, they started talking, and I swear they didn’t even notice when I left. I said “goodbye,” waved my hand, and slowly stepped backward. Nothing. For as long as I can remember, I have been invisible to any prospective guy walking the earth. It’s not my fault that I am single.
By the way, those two dated all the way through college. They got married and had kids, all cute as a button. The other day I was telling this story to the youngest, and her father was like: “What are you talking about? You weren’t there!”
