Sunday, August 25, 1996
Student relates tale of futile encounter at donut counter
Allow me to tell you a tale of woe. It’s a miserable story, one
that I think is reflective of a greater problem on campus. It all
started in a small corner of Ackerman.
I was leaning coolly (picture Humphrey Bogart in "Casablanca,"
only cooler) against a copy machine, killing time before class by
reading the latest edition of the Daily Bruin, when suddenly, I saw
her.
She was working at the pastry section carefully readjusting
muffins and cleaning things up. She was stunning. The way the the
sun glinted off of the clear glass donut display showing off the
different shades of brown in her hair made my heart stop. I had to
meet her, but how?
We had nothing in common. We shared no classes, we knew none of
the same people, hell, I didn’t even know her name. Frantically, my
brain started formulating possible plans: 1. Buy 30-dozen muffins.
Wait, no money. 2. Tell her you really love her sweet buns and pray
she understands you’re talking about the pastries. Too risky. 3.
Tell her you’re a pastry inspector and that you’ll forget
everything you’ve seen if she’ll go out with you. Too stupid.
My brain was screaming at me to stop being a fool and do
something. Time was wasting! That’s it! Time!
A brilliant plan formed in my head. Slowly I approached her,
circling like a hungry shark towards a surfer. I finally reached
the glass counter where she looked at me with an expectant
expression on her beautiful face. I smiled my smooth Dean
Cain-Superman smile at her (not to be confused with my Jimmie
Walker grin), and in my 92.3 The Beat Theo voice I seductively
intoned, "Excuse me, but would you happen to know the time?" My
god, I practically oozed sex appeal! If that wasn’t a brilliant
invitation to begin dialogue I don’t what was! Then she gave me the
look.
Everybody knows the look. It’s the same look a professor gives
you when you tell him the reason why you slept through every single
one of his lectures is because you learn better when you’re relaxed
… really relaxed. She gave me that you stupid jackass look and
pointing towards the copy machine said:
"There’s a clock on the wall. Didn’t you see it when you were
over there?" She turned her back on me, and then I could have sworn
I heard my Lady Love mutter under her breath "Freakin’ retard." I
felt like an art major in an O-Chem class … stupid. Hastily, I
gathered my crushed ego together and stumbled to class.
That’s the whole problem with this campus  it’s too hard
to find that special someone. There should be a designated area on
campus where single people can meet and talk in a comfortable
environment.
So far I have found only three places where new people can meet
and possibly find romance. 1. In line for financial aid. There’s
just someone about being in debt for thousands of dollars that
brings out the love in people. Never, except for in the depths of
Murphy, have I ever seen so many serious, hushed, and huddled
conversations between complete strangers as they tell each other
the tragedies they’ve experienced in their confrontations with
housing officials, loan transactors and award distributors. People
literally spill out their guts to others in line because they know
only those people understand what they’re going through. It’s the
perfect dating opportunity!
2. At tutoring. Ignorance truly is bliss. I know many people who
have formed relationships with a person they met while struggling
through a particularly confusing class. People seem to be attracted
to those who are just as perplexed as they are. Nothing brings
people closer together like utter and total helplessness.
3. Dorm cafeterias. Hot glances across the salad bar, a quick
smile at the smoothie bar, an "accidental" touch in the pizza line.
The cafeterias at this school are containers of sexual tension just
waiting to explode. I don’t know what it is about eating that gets
everybody so excited but the dorm cafeterias for me have always
been the best place to meet and flirt with members of the opposite
sex. I think it’s gotta be the jello.
I hope that someday a place will be created to specifically
address the needs of the single people on this campus. Until that
time comes I hope everybody keeps trying, I know I will. Uh, just
avoid Ackerman.
Happy hunting!
Torres is a third-year psychology student and this is his last
column. Thank God.