Lime-green Lacoste Polo

It’s been a busy day of studying for the GRE, running, cooking, watching “The West Wing,” and some more studying. Time Management y’all! And now, I should go to sleep, but I know you’re on pins and needles to hear about my other exploits in meeting boys, so…

Recently, I was at my new favorite study spot, Caribou Coffee, studying ye old GRE and checking out a fine member of the male species as he was studying. In our post-“Queer Eye” world, the line between straight and gay has been blurred by the meterosexual, and this guy, with his designer jeans and shoes, and a lime-green Lacoste polo, was walking the line precariously. Throughout the afternoon I tried the age-old “Eye contact” game, which is really the only game I got at this point. However, I wasn’t sure if he was playing, mostly because I’m still a novice at the sport. And now, I’m going to drop the “game/sport/playing” metaphor.

As my studying was wrapping up (i.e. my head was hurting and my eyes were glazing over) I made the bold decision: I’m going to ask him out! Now, my straight friends, you must understand the difficulty in this venture, because a wide range of outcomes are possible. He could respond with a “Yeah, sure” to a “What the hell, get outta my face you [insert unkind word here] before I kick your [other unkind words].” Some straight guys just don’t take getting hit on by another guy well, which I sorta understand. Sorta. Nevertheless, after some deep breathing and a little prayer, I made my move.

“Excuse me, I can see your studying hard, so I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was wondering if I could take you out to dinner sometime?”

Shocked? Yeah, I was too, still not sure how I mustered the words to actually leave my mouth. He’s response:

“Um, thanks, but I’m not ‘that way’.”

Well, shoot. But he took it well. As my apartment mate Diana said when I told her this story, “Way to go UNC men for being open-minded.” I then left Caribou, my head a little higher because I actually just asked a guy out. It may not have turned out as I would have wished, but whatev, I did it. Plus, Peter (he told me his name, heh) knows he’s a hottie.

Next time, part 3. And here’s the kicker, I know beforehand that he’s gay. Dun dun dun.