Freshman year of college I was ecstatic about the possibility of dating. I went to a very, very small high school and didn’t date at all, so when I started undergrad with 16,000 other undergrads, half of whom had a penis, I knew there had to be at least one boy who would ask me out. I was wrong. Instead of focusing on the fact that out of 8,000 guys, none had the courage/drive/willingness to ask me out, I decided that I was going to take the initiative. So, as a freshman filled with the boundless sense of possibility, I decided to ask a guy out. I had the perfect target: Cute Boy from one of my smaller classes, who I had hung out with once outside of class and got positive vibes from (We watched the Dark Knight in his common room together! There was minimal space between us on the couch!). The week before I mustered up the courage to ask him out was spent giving myself a pep talk about progressive women and the badassery of Sadie Hawkins and how fucking awesome I would be for asking a guy out instead of waiting the other way around.
Since I’m a perfectionist, I wanted the actual asking out to be creative and perfect. The Google Search Story was extremely popular at this point, and Google even made a tool to make your own video in the style of the heartwarming commercial. I set to work, inputting all the things Cute Boy and I had in common, incorporating searches like “Asking out a friend” and “The Dark Knight showtimes”. I had the perfect opportunity to show it to Cute Boy when we were paired together on a project. Heart beating wildly, I asked him to stop by my dorm to check out the progress I made on our project. He skated over that night (he was in college and still had a skateboard. He was that cool) and I could barely contain my excitement as he sat down in front of my laptop and pressed ‘Play’.
He watched the whole thing with me hovering awkwardly over his shoulder. When the video finished, he turned to me. Except, instead of the embarrassed but flattered smile I was expecting, he looked very uncomfortable. “Um…I’m actually kind of interested in this other girl.” I took a second before recovering like a champ. “Oh, dude. Man. Bro-stest with the most-est. That is totally cool.” I think I tried to man it up in an effort to suddenly align myself as a guy friend as opposed to a potential girlfriend. I stopped just short of “Is she hot?” After two minutes of absolutely excruciating watch-a-puppy-get-tortured small talk in which I masculinized myself to the point of nearly growing testicles, he skated away like the coolest kid around. I watched him go, wanting to die of embarrassment in between thoughts of “FUCK FEMINISM. FUCK SADIE HAWKINS. FUCK BOYS WHO STILL OWN SKATEBOARDS IN COLLEGE.” Unfortunately, I still had four months of class with him and a group project to finish. I managed to make it through each of our awkward encounters, acting as if it was no big deal at all (although when he accidentally fell out of his chair one class I laughed really hard and really loud. I like to believe it was my own twisted form of vengeance). In the end, I learned that if you’re not sure the person you’re asking out will say yes, do not go elaborate. That Google Search Story was the goddamn most adorable thing I had ever done, and it went to waste on someone who didn’t like me back.
P.S. I’m sorry for cursing your name, Sadie Hawkins. You seem like a really cool person.
P.P.S. Upon a quick Google search, Sadie Hawkins was not actually a real-life progressive woman and God is dead.