Monday, September 13, 2010

In which I stalk my college boyfriend before we start dating so he will want to date me because every man wants an obsessed woman

When I left you, I was on a "date" with Jake, my physics lab partner, and had just met Calvin, who later became my boyfriend, then not my boyfriend when I met his hot friend Seth who had the fabulous abs, then my boyfriend again when I realized Seth had no interest whatsoever in me, then my fiance' and then not my fiance,' but only after my mom had reserved the church and I had bought the dress.

I took one look at Calvin and thought, Well now he's a hottie, isn't he? only I didn't think the word "hottie" because it was not yet in use in the early '80s. "Stud" and "studmuffin" were the terms of art back then. "Hunk" was also used, although "hunkalicious" would not find popularity until 2009, way too late to use for Calvin.

But they all applied.

He was hot.

Even more appealing to me than his smoldering dark good looks and cute smile was the fact that he was completely, totally uninterested in me. No vibe whatsoever.

Nothing I like better than a challenge.

I'd had only a date or two my freshman year of college, if you could even call them dates. A date implies interest on the part of both parties, not an interested guy and a girl who's too startled at being asked out to know how to say, "no." It implies that the girl know when a guy tells her that he has an extra ticket to the Tom Petty concert and does she want to go that he is really asking her on a date, not trying to keep the ticket from going to waste, because if that's all he wanted, he could have asked his roommate. But some girls will just go because they've never been to a rock concert before (really!) and then be shocked, shocked when the guy tries to hold their (her?) hand because when has she ever shown any interest in this guy?

See also, "I go to a play with my roommate's brother's roommate and then he walks me back to my room and won't leave so I sit with my roommates to watch TV and pull out my knitting, then go to a midnight showing of Rocky Horror with the cute guys who walk past our room and invite anyone who wants to go with them."

I needed a strategy to make Calvin mine.

Part of it was to lose 25 pounds.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know it's what's inside that matters, but 18 year old men who can choose from an entire cafeteria of girls will choose the ones they find most visually appealing and select for personality later. I needed to catch his eye before he would even talk to me.

Over the summer, I de-chubbed. What a pain in the neck. Eating less, exercising more. I hate it all.

But when I returned to school that fall, there was less of me to love and I had a better haircut.

Then my roommates, who were in on the plan with me, and I began to include Calvin in our group activities. We were already friends with some of his friends, so it wasn't too hard.

He was a hard nut to crack. Study, study, study. He was majoring in electrical engineering and physics and had appointed himself the homework helper to the world. He didn't have much free time.

Yet I persisted. I would visit him and his roommates - just saying hi! Just making myself obnoxious!

Over Christmas break, I saw my chance. My family lived in San Antonio. So did his. I proposed that we get together and do something while we were home. Probably too surprised to say no, he agreed.

My friends bet me that I couldn't get him to kiss me. He was too shy, they said. He wasn't interested in girls. Or in me. Fine. Show me the money.

What did we do? I can't remember. Maybe we went to a movie. I do remember that he picked me up. (He had his own car. He was an Only.)

When he dropped me off at the end of the evening, he walked me to the door. Took my hand. Kissed it.

Oh no, I told him. Not there. Here. And I pointed to my lips.

He gave me an awkward peck.

I was disappointed. Really? That was it?

You can do better than that! I exclaimed.

He tried again.

Practice did make perfect.

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