Last semester I met a boy in Dr. Beals’ social psychology class. One of my earlier posts referenced an art exhibit put on by one of the graduate students in that same class. Hmm. Who would have thought that class would have such an impact? Anyways, so I met this boy who sat next to me for the majority of that spring semester.
Immediately people expect a romantic undertone, but no. This was romantic in the sense that it was just a raw, human connection between two souls that would probably never meet again. I'll omit his name out of privacy, only because he might think me somewhat of a stalker for being inspired by this encounter. *cough* Rene *cough*cough*
HONESTLY though, I think this sort of thing happens more often than we think or would like to believe.
In class, He complimented my boots and hippie bracelets. I complimented his smile. If I could describe him, I’d say he looked like a Waldo (Where’s Waldo) hipster. We never got to say “goodbye” after our final.
Well.
I’m here watching the jazz band perform on campus and who walks up, guitar in hand? Hipster Waldo. We both smiled and waved. I’m wearing the same boots he complimented. His smile hasn't changed.
"Bye", I said.
"And hello again", he replied.
"I still dig your boots, bro."
"And I still dig your smile, bra."
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