I met Randy at my alma mater, in the cafeteria. I was a freshman, and he was a junior.
Up to that point, I had not paid any attention to upperclassmen, feeling my lowly inferiority in knowledge and life experience as a young teenager. I stuck with a group of freshman girls from my dorm and tended to keep the blinders on in class and other social settings in the hope that others wouldn’t notice me if I didn’t notice them. You could say I was timid.
Randy and I literally bumped into one another. Literally. He turned around and apologized, saying, “Excuse me, Naomi.”
I’m sure my eyes bugged out of my head. I had no idea who this guy was, and he knew my name. !!! He didn’t realize it, but his knowing my name was extremely flattering. I’m sure I was blushing bright red.
“How do you know my name?”
“Oh, I work for yearbook,” was his suave reply. “I’ve seen your picture.”
I frolicked back to my little gaggle of freshman girls, telling them about my encounter with a super hot upperclassman guy. One of said friends squashed my enthusiasm by telling me he already had a girlfriend.
Oh, well, I was too buoyant over the whole encounter to let this unfortunate news get me down. I crossed him off my list of potential love interests, but kept him on the “favorable first impression” list.