dear lost and dazzled psychology student

work isn’t full of adventures. usually, i sit in a tiny gate house watching age old seasons of tv shows and hounding pals on various forms of internet chatrooms. the heat gets to me, i turn the fan on full blast, then resort to peeling off layers of clothing. but then i begin to feel exposed, a bit like a misshapen mannequin on display in a glass encased gatehouse situated in the middle of a busy road.
to take my mind off of things, i start to people watch. i begin with scanning the fellows standing at the bus stop, let my eyes wander over to the brave few who trek up to mary gates hall, and then i saw you. you were walking up the hill into the 41st street entrance of campus, and you looked simply smashing in your CEO style getup, but there was a certain familiar look on your face… i squinted, and realized. you looked quite lost.
you stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, and i watched, completely entranced, as you glanced back down the street and then the other way.
with a little spring of a step, you bounded across the other side of the street and headed straight for me.
dear student, i couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second, and i was taken aback when i realized that you were heading straight for my gatehouse, that endearing expression still pasted on your golden, gorgeous face.
by the time you were standing just inside the gate door, i had recomposed myself and hopefully conjured a more acceptable expression of amazement. you had politely asked me about the floating building stationed temporarily in the C-8 parking lot (formerly a psychology building that is being transported to a newly flattened area by Parrington hall) and were wondering where the new psychology office would be located.
i believed that you would for sure detest me after i revealed to you that i had absolutely no clue, but you surprisingly took it in stride, flashing a brilliant smile and straightening your blue striped button up.
you told me that you had no idea where to go for your important meeting now, and that you might miss what would be the most important meeting of your psychology career with a lab instructor.
i apologized, but you shook your head and smiled, and to my surprise, struck up the beginning chords of a conversation.
we conversed for a bit about the psychology major, into which you told me you were only recently inducted, and i was legitimately impressed by both your stature and your credentials, and even that way you ran your long fingers over your short dark hair.
student, you are even better looking from this close proximity, i can see that your eyes are not just a deep brown, but more like freshly pressed coffee grounds, and that your ‘do (short though it is) has the potential of curling into a less egotistical version of Vincent Chase’s Greek god of mops.
i’m not the easiest of people to chat with, and i am also not the least awkward of people either, so it surprised me to no end when you gave me that compliment. i wasn’t expecting it, and it caught me off guard so i’m pretty sure i was smiling like an idiot at you while you waited for a gracious thank you or something else of the sort.
no doubt, you’re quite skilled at this kind of thing, but a part of me (a really big big part of me) hopes that you meant what you said because it meant a lot to me. and yet a bigger part of me hopes that one day you will stumble across this blog post, realize that you just the made the day of a poor bored student stuck at work, and that you will maybe holla back.
but regardless, what you said made me smile for hours after.

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