Ryan Chartrand

Being a romantic idealist commits me to deliver this with meaning and truth: that I come close to heartbreak with the silence of a lonely midday meal. On this particular day, contrary to my usual reading, I chose to sit with a blonde, wavy-haired beauty.

Things always start well. From there it just depends how you choose to connect. And my trial was with this fair girl I just met.

As I sat on the round picnic tables at Campus Market, with her directly opposite, I began to blush. This blushing probably magnified my feeling of ineptitude and my plainly apparent thought – this was bad!

My attempts of communication were pathetic at best … even as she smiled in her silent confidence I knew I could not bring myself to break the calm. Aware that I was kicking a dead horse, I proceeded to spill barbecue sauce out of my chewy tri-tip meaty delight onto my pant leg.

Through all of this she sat unaware of how I felt, her stylish white bug-eyed glasses hiding her eyes and her striped shirt matching mine.

As the seconds passed on I saw her pack her things and, uncomfortably, I left first in order to save face. As I turned the street corner I heard her boots clank, so instinctively I looked back and all I could manage to utter was a quick and awkward “see you around,” fully conscious that these words contained a hollow truth.

I guess the moral of this is that it takes a lot more substance than the stare that David Coleman so highly praised.

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