The theme of today's column is missed opportunities. Life is full of them. For example, let's say that one morning you want to wake up and go to the campus mini-mart to buy Baked Lays and low fat French onion dip. But let's also say you wake up too late to go, and the campus mini-mart is closed (it closes at 10 p.m.). You've just missed your opportunity to eat some delicious Baked Lays and low fat French onion dip. Instead you're forced to eat the stale Triscuits that have been sitting on your counter for weeks with absolutely nothing to dip them in.
Admittedly, not all situations are as drastic as above, but it was just a vehicle to illustrate my point. And what's my point, you ask? My point is that missed opportunities affect us all, yes even yours truly. And since I am fairly self-absorbed, I will now tell the tale of an opportunity I missed just two short years ago, when I was a wee sophomore.
Her name was Jessica, and I will not use her full name here for fear of a) hurting her feelings if she is reading this and b) you not believing me. Let's just say, for the sus-latinae scholars, that she's an oviestar-may in ollywood-hay, and leave it at that. Now the skeptical among you may be, well, a bit skeptical. But hear me out, I present a good case.
Stalking is a word that bears an unfairly negative connotation. Just think about it for a second. Is it always a bad thing? The reason I ask, and it isn't because I engage in such behaviors (because I don't), is because for a period of three months during the first semester of my sophomore year this attractive young oviestar-may named Jessica was stalking me. Again, I can see your ugly faces twisting in skepticism. In fact, I'm watching you read this right now. So untwist your faces, because I have proof.
It all began that September. I was enjoying a delicious sandwich with a friend at the campus center. Maybe 10 to 15 minutes after I sit down the stalker walks by me. Of course I think nothing of it, and why would I? I'm not crazy or anything. But then the next day I'm at the campus center again, and she walks by me 10 to 15 minutes after I sit down, again. And then it happens two days later. Suspicions abound. Usually I would think nothing of this, I would write it off as a coincidence of the most coincidental sort. Nay though, for firstly, each time I ate it was at a different time of the lunch period: 11:55, 12:35, and 1:40 p.m. Secondly, she looked at me once, or at least I think she did through those expensive oviestar-may sunglasses. And thirdly and most suspiciously, as she walked by me each time she was speaking obnoxiously loud on her cellular telephone. We all know that when someone walks by you talking obnoxiously loud on their cell phone, they want you to notice them. Well, Jessica, it worked.
After those three encounters, even I was skeptical. Maybe she just has a similar schedule to mine, maybe she just appreciated the delicious campus center sandwiches, and maybe she just speaks at obnoxiously loud levels on her cell phone because she doesn't believe in common courtesy. Who knows? What wasn't coincidence was what happened after those first three days as her obsession deepened.
The average college male would be downright excited about an oviestar-may stalking him, and in fact I was. But she got a little sketchy, and I panicked. In retrospect I could have handled the situation better, but don't judge me, dammit.
Incidence of JB Sketchiness No. 1: That October, a theater group on this campus put on a production of "Tommy," the rock opera. I, being the biggest fan of The Who ever in the whole world ever (and I'm only slightly exaggerating), was one of the first in line to purchase tickets. On the day of the show I arrive at the Balch Arena Theater and nestle into a seat in the second row, ready to watch some good rock opera action. But guess who had used her clout as an oviestar-may to earn a featured role in the production? If you guessed Natalie Portman you're an idiot. The real question was, "how did she know I liked The Who?"
Incidence of JB Sketchiness No. 2: My roommate Scott came back from the gym one day and told me that while he was doing sit-ups the oviestar-may came over and asked if anyone was sitting next to him. She then proceeded to sit down and engage in abdominal exercises. Normally that isn't too sketchy, as Ian Asaff would tell you, but the fact that she sat next to my roommate arouses suspicion. How did she know he was my roommate? And what perfume was she wearing? Was it the Dolce and Gabbana Citrus she wore to class on Tuesdays and Thursdays? Or was it the Chanel Gardenia she would wear into town on the weekends? Just so many questions!
Regardless, I was scared off by Jessica's antics. In retrospect I probably should have given her a chance. After all, she seemed like a great girl. However, it was just another missed opportunity for yours truly, just another tally mark on the missed opportunity tally-marking board. But no regrets in this camp, no sir. There will be other oviestar-mays I'm sure, and, if you're as optimistic as I am, everything happens for a reason. But if you want Baked Lays and low fat French onion dip, make sure to set your alarm clock.
