Two weeks ago, during my math class, as I was taking notes, a note was handed to me by the girl sitting behind me.
It was a strange request I'll admit, since our teacher expected us to hand in our notebooks weekly for points. What was she doing all this time? I figured maybe she was just updating a new notebook, so I gave her all my notes, and told her to give them back to me, the following Tuesday.
Tuesday came, but my notes didnt. Being that we had a test the upcoming Thursday and the fact that I didnt know her name, I freaked and told my teacher, Professor Caldwell my situation. She had no idea who I was talking about, but then remembered that the girl who sat behind me was named April, and last Thursday was her first public appearance in class. No wonder she needed my notes. Professor Caldwell promised to send a stern e-mail to April, and told me I could take the test after I got my notes back.
Thursday came, and thankfully so did my notes. It was during the middle of class, when April stood outside the classroom door, waving at me. Apparently, one public appearance was enough. As I sat back down in my seat and opened my notebook, I saw that April had made comments on every little doodle I drew, praising and LOL-ing me for my artistic talents. On the page where I had last left off, April left me a letter thanking me for my kindness and told me how much she appreicated reading my notes. And just from reading my notes and doodles, she concluded that she liked me. Really liked me.
The weekend rolled around, and I forgot all about April and her weird letter. That is, until last Sunday, when I was shopping at the Tucson Mall. I was just coming out of Buckle, when I heard someone call my name. It was April, ecstatic to see me, asking what I thought about my notebook. I lied and said I hadnt opened it, because of the test. I could tell she was disappointed that I hadnt seen her comments, but I was still unsure what to say to the person who liked me, really liked me, for just my doodles.
Later on that day, I got a phone call from Mr. Freed's son. Mr. Freed was the guy I gave a heart attack to in the hospital parking lot, a few weeks back, and when I went to go visit him, his son Bryan was the only one there. Bryan was more interested in asking about my life, then giving me an update on his father, which I thought was sad, but then again, who was I to judge?
BRYAN: And this weekend, I'm going to San Diego to visit some friends.
ME: Oh, thats nice.
BRYAN: And I want you to come along.
ME: Me? Why?
BRYAN: Well, I remember you telling me something about pursuing a journalism career.
ME: Yeah.
BRYAN: Well, sometimes journalists find that they dont like writing articles as much as they thought they did. So, sometimes, some journalists make a career in public relations.
ME: Ok...
BRYAN: My friend is a junior vice-president for one of San Diego's largest PR firms, and I think it would be wise if you met him and made some connections. Hell, you might even get yourself an internship there this summer.
ME: Well, the thing is, I dont have any money right now to just fly off and take a trip...
BRYAN: Dont worry about money. I'll pay for everything. Airplane, hotel, lunch, dinner, everything. All you have to do is just say yes.
I had to admit, the offer was tempting. Scoring a summer internship at a large PR firm in California did have a certain appeal. The thing that nagged me was that Bryan had only met me once, and barely knew a thing about me but was already offering a spring break trip at no cost. And was it just me, or is there something odd about an unmarried bachelor asking a guy to accompany him on vacation? I mean, I was still waiting for my Slate internship response (which I'll receive next week), but isnt having more than one option the wisest choice?
I decided to ask my friend Madelaine what she thought of my two strange requests, only to find out she herself was recieving strange requests. Early Monday morning, while at work, a strange guy, named Scott called her to ask if she had paged him. She didnt and suggested that maybe someone had punched in the wrong number. As it turns out she was right. Scott called back an hour later to confirm that someone had punched in the wrong number and proceeded to tell Madelaine why finding out who called him was crucial. He was a male-stripper and his pager was his business line.
SCOTT: Yeah, she was just a little scared because it was her first time. That's all.
MADELAINE: Oh, ok.
SCOTT: Yeah. She thought I would be the perfect entertainment for her Mary Kay party.
MADELAINE: Mary Kay party?
SCOTT: Oh, yeah! On top of my strip show, I also give nude pedicures.
MADELAINE: Really?
SCOTT: Yup! All for the low, low price of $25 an hour! Great deal, huh?
MADELAINE: Yeah, I guess.
SCOTT: So if you're ever in need of some great entertainment...
Scott gave Madelaine his number and wished her a happy day, leaving Madelaine wondering why he called to tell her his happy news. Even after Madelaine got off of work, Scott kept calling, asking for the girl with the beautiful voice. Which made me and Madelaine wonder what kind of person uses a simple phone conversation as a basis for a friendship?
Later on that day, Madelaine and I went to El Con Theater and saw an advanced screening of V for Vendetta. Though, the movie was supposed to make you think of your own government, it made me think of something else. Evey, fell in love with a masked man named V, despite knowing nothing of his past or his future. She took a chance in helping V and her life changed forever. So I wonder if it's possible to like someone, really like someone, without really knowing who they are? And should you take a chance to get to know them, even though all signs point to no?
It was a strange request I'll admit, since our teacher expected us to hand in our notebooks weekly for points. What was she doing all this time? I figured maybe she was just updating a new notebook, so I gave her all my notes, and told her to give them back to me, the following Tuesday.Tuesday came, but my notes didnt. Being that we had a test the upcoming Thursday and the fact that I didnt know her name, I freaked and told my teacher, Professor Caldwell my situation. She had no idea who I was talking about, but then remembered that the girl who sat behind me was named April, and last Thursday was her first public appearance in class. No wonder she needed my notes. Professor Caldwell promised to send a stern e-mail to April, and told me I could take the test after I got my notes back.
Thursday came, and thankfully so did my notes. It was during the middle of class, when April stood outside the classroom door, waving at me. Apparently, one public appearance was enough. As I sat back down in my seat and opened my notebook, I saw that April had made comments on every little doodle I drew, praising and LOL-ing me for my artistic talents. On the page where I had last left off, April left me a letter thanking me for my kindness and told me how much she appreicated reading my notes. And just from reading my notes and doodles, she concluded that she liked me. Really liked me.
The weekend rolled around, and I forgot all about April and her weird letter. That is, until last Sunday, when I was shopping at the Tucson Mall. I was just coming out of Buckle, when I heard someone call my name. It was April, ecstatic to see me, asking what I thought about my notebook. I lied and said I hadnt opened it, because of the test. I could tell she was disappointed that I hadnt seen her comments, but I was still unsure what to say to the person who liked me, really liked me, for just my doodles.
Later on that day, I got a phone call from Mr. Freed's son. Mr. Freed was the guy I gave a heart attack to in the hospital parking lot, a few weeks back, and when I went to go visit him, his son Bryan was the only one there. Bryan was more interested in asking about my life, then giving me an update on his father, which I thought was sad, but then again, who was I to judge?
BRYAN: And this weekend, I'm going to San Diego to visit some friends.
ME: Oh, thats nice.
BRYAN: And I want you to come along.
ME: Me? Why?
BRYAN: Well, I remember you telling me something about pursuing a journalism career.
ME: Yeah.
BRYAN: Well, sometimes journalists find that they dont like writing articles as much as they thought they did. So, sometimes, some journalists make a career in public relations.
ME: Ok...
BRYAN: My friend is a junior vice-president for one of San Diego's largest PR firms, and I think it would be wise if you met him and made some connections. Hell, you might even get yourself an internship there this summer.
ME: Well, the thing is, I dont have any money right now to just fly off and take a trip...
BRYAN: Dont worry about money. I'll pay for everything. Airplane, hotel, lunch, dinner, everything. All you have to do is just say yes.
I had to admit, the offer was tempting. Scoring a summer internship at a large PR firm in California did have a certain appeal. The thing that nagged me was that Bryan had only met me once, and barely knew a thing about me but was already offering a spring break trip at no cost. And was it just me, or is there something odd about an unmarried bachelor asking a guy to accompany him on vacation? I mean, I was still waiting for my Slate internship response (which I'll receive next week), but isnt having more than one option the wisest choice?
I decided to ask my friend Madelaine what she thought of my two strange requests, only to find out she herself was recieving strange requests. Early Monday morning, while at work, a strange guy, named Scott called her to ask if she had paged him. She didnt and suggested that maybe someone had punched in the wrong number. As it turns out she was right. Scott called back an hour later to confirm that someone had punched in the wrong number and proceeded to tell Madelaine why finding out who called him was crucial. He was a male-stripper and his pager was his business line.
SCOTT: Yeah, she was just a little scared because it was her first time. That's all.
MADELAINE: Oh, ok.
SCOTT: Yeah. She thought I would be the perfect entertainment for her Mary Kay party.
MADELAINE: Mary Kay party?
SCOTT: Oh, yeah! On top of my strip show, I also give nude pedicures.
MADELAINE: Really?
SCOTT: Yup! All for the low, low price of $25 an hour! Great deal, huh?
MADELAINE: Yeah, I guess.
SCOTT: So if you're ever in need of some great entertainment...
Scott gave Madelaine his number and wished her a happy day, leaving Madelaine wondering why he called to tell her his happy news. Even after Madelaine got off of work, Scott kept calling, asking for the girl with the beautiful voice. Which made me and Madelaine wonder what kind of person uses a simple phone conversation as a basis for a friendship?
Later on that day, Madelaine and I went to El Con Theater and saw an advanced screening of V for Vendetta. Though, the movie was supposed to make you think of your own government, it made me think of something else. Evey, fell in love with a masked man named V, despite knowing nothing of his past or his future. She took a chance in helping V and her life changed forever. So I wonder if it's possible to like someone, really like someone, without really knowing who they are? And should you take a chance to get to know them, even though all signs point to no?
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