I am so excited to finally get to a totally different guy, the racist. When recounting the stories of my love life, the racist is pretty low on the radar. He’s not the most influential story, and actually, there isn’t really any romance involved, although he might have thought so. However, it’s incredibly amusing and for that reason will be told.
I had started classes at the city school and without Mr. Granola, my life seemed miserable. How anyone in any of my classes thought I was normal, I do not know. My eyes were perpetually swollen shut and I refused to talk to anyone. Slowly, I started coming out of my secretive shell but at this big school, which was at least five times larger in terms of student body population, meeting new people was problematic.
My classes were fine, fairly straightforward and nothing out of the ordinary. I had exempted out of a general Psychology class but figured it would be an easy A and I needed to take it to transfer. I didn’t know if I would transfer anymore but just in case, it was better to take it.
So there I sat, bored out of my mind, in a huge lecture class. I am a creature of habit and sat in the same seat day after day. I soon realized that others did the same thing. One day our teacher was late. I didn’t know the time limit to the “Late Teacher Rule” (if the teacher is over 15 minutes late then you can leave) at this new school and asked the guy sitting next to me. He was your typical gangster rapper kid. He wore a flat billed baseball hat sideways on his head. It was probably 5 sizes to big as well. His pants and shirt were also on the large and baggy side. There was some graphic graffiti looking logo and his look wouldn’t be complete without the ridiculously large single cubic zirconium stud in his right ear lobe. He told me that the rule was 15 minutes, and we kept talking after that. It was actually nice to talk to someone. Then a few minutes later, the teacher came in and started class. Class ended and we said our goodbyes.
The following day, the gangster rapper kid sat next to me again. This time he introduced himself properly and we picked up talking were we left off the day before. Once again, it was nice to talk to someone. This day was different though. He wanted to keep talking when the teacher started class. I found this awkward. Yes, it was a huge lecture class and yes I was glad to finally be talking to someone but I really didn’t want to be talking during class. I’m sort of a goodie-goodie like that…
So our conversation switched to good old note passing. And so it continued. Every class, I would talk to my note buddy. He was nice but I was in NO WAY interested in him. I had just gotten my heart trampled on by Mr. Granola and I wasn’t planning on staying at this school. And even if those two factors weren’t there, this guy was not my type. I didn’t think he’d go for a girl like me anyway, so I just didn’t think about it as a possibility.
Well I probably should have thought about the possibilities because the very next day, my note buddy started hitting on me and through a note nonetheless.
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