"So I’m sitting in the HFAC eating my peanut-butter and honey sandwich, listening to this guy talk about his love life. It’s actually quite comical. Let me set up the situation: Boy meets girl, knows her for two months, goes on one date, decides he is absolutely in love with her, wants to date her again, writes her a song. And tonight is the grand premiere of his knee-buckling, romantic hit “Christine”. (obviously, the name of his beloved)
I’m completely serious.
But you can’t blame him; he is, of course, a love-sick music major. Therefore, his love is a romantic adventure. He held his breath in the tunnel for her. He threw a penny in a fountain to bring luck to his quest. And tonight, all of his hopes, dreams, and infatuations will be summed up in a musical plea for a second date.
With earnest hope in his eyes, he pulls out an unassuming piece of lined paper deemed with the golden lyrics of his love song. He then begins to read aloud the words of his undying affection to his friends. As he finished, he looks at his comrades, waiting for their commentary. After a moment of strange silence, his friend looks him in the eye and said, “Dude, you sound like you are going to propose to her”. My thoughts exactly.
While all this is going on, I am silently laughing over here. I can just envision him walking up to this unsuspecting girl, going down on one knee, pulling out a guitar from behind his back, and singing his soul to her. Creeper. If I was her, I book it out of there.
But what I learned today from my odd experience in the HFAC was that maybe music majors are more interesting and spontaneous than I thought they’d be."
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