Timothy Halsey
<rant> dsfJKDAHFKJsdjkfhjksdf;;';2SF!!@!!! sorry. My mind is going insane, incomprehensible, similarly like HTML commands to a non-technology savvy middle-aged mom (that follows the doctrine of LOL meaning "lots of love" and nothing else). And it's all because I was ensorcelled by her as she walked in, a girl who smells of sweet dirt and olive oil —promise I don't have a peculiar fetish—she isn't the typical "pretty" girl you'd see in a magazine, she's more rugged, more my type.
I stare at her Modern Family t-shirt, suddenly wondering about her family. Lots of siblings? Do they have the genetic olfactory-receptors that make cilantro taste like soap? Did they grow up with a strong educati-
"Hey do you take….. pre-med and CS?" she asks, glancing at my textbooks. Hoarse. Was she being derisive? What was that pause for? No. Lie to her. Pre-med and CS are too humdrum, she's going to stereotype me as an anti-social noodle berry. C'mon Timothy, think.
"Nah, these are my idiot brothers' textbooks, only boring people take pre-med or CS. I take the introductory level of biology— the goal is just to survive college, hah am I right?" I add a chuckle but it hangs awkwardly in the space between us. She nods, uninterested. Alright, you didn't have to inquire in the first place. The silence consumes us both, with excessive awkwardness, the kind of awkward where you accidentally make eye-contact with someone urinating in a public bathroom an—
"So any cool biofacts you can tell me? How many colors can we see with our human eyes, or I don't know the length of our DNA's?" she asks, probably out of courtesy, I should just give short answers. Yeah. Okay, "a lot of colors I guess", 7 million, but some color relationships and combinations lead to migraines and others stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system, "our DNA's are long", uncoiled: the strands are equivalent to the distance from Earth to Pluto and back.
She nods again, abruptly leaves the elevator without saying bye and pulls out her phone to probably look at 'dank memes'. Greeeaaaat. I'm annoyed- and it's not because she left abruptly, since it's mostly my fault that I'm incapable of speaking to new humans- it's just that I was about to tell her my favorite biofact, <u><b>Psychologically, all humans that have the XX sex-determination chromosome, find Timothy Halsey uninteresting</b></u>, no matter how much effort I put </rant>
Sarah Rashid
<tone="annoyed as HELL"> hate living on the 32nd floor—I'm already 36 minutes late to CS and the elevator is taking forever to open. Oh no, a cute boy is in there— that means I have to engage in the classic weather small talk WHILE being nervous.
OH okay, he's staring me down now, not sure if he's looking at my Modern Family t-shirt or is just checking out my boobs in an overly obvious way. I'll give it a minute. Maybe he'll look away -or not- well it's only fair I stare back at him— oh sweet he's pre-med and does CS, or at least he has textbooks for them. I build the courage to ask him, okay Sarah- here goes,
"Hey do you take…" my voice cracks, whY WHY, I can't even articulate a simple question. I pause and continue my sentence, or at least try to "… pre-med and CS?" or maybe he doesn't take the course, ugh why do I judge people too qui—
"Nah, these are my idiot brothers' textbooks, only boring people take pre-med or CS. I take the introductory level of biology…" and he mumbles a few other lines I didn't catch, oops. He starts laughing a bit, but I just nod, to make it seem like I heard what he said, because I didn't want to seem ignorant but pretty douchey for him to think only boring people are pre-med or take CS, probably just jealous of his brother— aaand now I'm just imagining his brother, he must be a good looking intellectual man ahhhhh <img src="mmMmm.gif" alt="man of my dreams" height="69" width="69" (align="cuddling with me")> AND it went quiet, real quiet. I try to break the silence, "So any cool biology facts you can tell me? How many colors can we see with our human eyes, or I don't know the length of our DNA's?" This is better than asking about the weather, plus maybe I can make this conversation less awkward. Sweet, killing two birds with one stone.
"A lot of colors I guess… our DNA's are long" he replies, bored.
Okay, I obviously missed the two birds, another thing I can't do, efficiently throw stones. I say bye under my breath, speed walk out the elevator, and check the time on my phone, 38 minutes late now— whatever happened to all the people who enjoyed engaging in intellectual conversations or valued intelligence? I'm sure they still exist. Maybe it's just this guy, or maybe it's <i>me?</i>
