There are those people in life who will always leave you speechless, somehow dumb upon sight. No matter how hard you try to sharpen your wit and turn up your sass, mere eye contact for more than a second seems to staple your brain shut.Yet another clockwork year had passed to bring me back to fall of freshman year when I met The Boy With the Glasses. I had much less time to prepare myself this year. I was almost relieved when the meeting was nearly cancelled due to weather. However, it was only pushed back half an hour, which would now cause overlap with the best friend who is both smarter and quicker than TJB.
Shocking, I know.
I prepared my talking points, changed outfits to something that said "don't care", and even wore my own glasses as if the extra layer between my eyes and his would help deflect the numbing stare. There would be only 30 minutes to establish that I was the calmest, coolest internal 5th grader in NYC.
Just kidding. When I turned the corner on 8th Avenue, I found myself steps behind the best friend. I remained quiet with a whispered "fuck" and let him reach the doors of the Google offices before I tapped his shoulder.
The Boy With the Glasses was already waiting in the lobby. We checked in at the security desk where I managed to take the worst photo of my life for a badge that I quickly shoved into my pocket. I shook off the snapshot, slapped on some swagger, and followed The Boy With the Glasses through the security glass doors
which promptly shut on me, catching my entire body in them as I flailed and struggled to get out like a trapped rabbit.
The security guard shouted at me to use the open entrance on the left, but it was a little too late and my pride was left in the lobby.
We spent the next 20 minutes traveling through the Google offices, a distracting cavern of quirk and free food. I suppose aesthetics and perks are important if you hate your job. By the time we sat down, I was pretty sure everyone had forgotten about my embarrassing entrance...so I brought it up again.
Then, I brought up a boy I knew at Google in San Francisco. When The Boy With the Glasses asked if they should meet for coffee, I wanted to ask if I should just slit my wrists with chopsticks.
DAMN. I was losing traction fast. I had just set up a potential date, the best friend was nailing lunch, and I could only half answer any questions about myself between bites. My jokes weren't landing, I had to pee, and I almost choked on a shrimp tail in my sushi. I have never said "well, yeah" so many times. The realization that I had no business being at this lunch gathering slowly sank in. Obligatory-invitation-by-tradition was clear.
When the best friend mentioned he had to get back to work and would leave us to have a private goodbye, I almost spat up the shrimp tail in horror. No way was I going to leave myself one-on-one to risk the chance of any real emotions or honest thoughts existing. I would be getting in that elevator.
I said "see ya" to The Boy With the Glasses as if I would, knowing that if I somehow survive another five hundred twenty five thousand six hundred minutes in the pity graces of nostalgia, I will be the most single man in America. Still one of the prettiest, but very single.
I looked at the best friend talking on the way down but never listened. As we walked out into the rain, he said goodbye, and I said, "Just hug me." He begrudgingly wrapped one arm around me like the sad wet puppy I was before running off. I didn't open my umbrella for 3 blocks in some weird poetic gesture to the day.
I should have worn contacts,
TJB: Making It
