Minimal Expectations Minimal Disappointment

The Consort – Rufus Wainwright

I’ve talked to Vincenza three times at most since I met her and for the last month I have thought of her often.

*****

The first time we spoke was because she was sitting next to my usual seating partner, Elizabeth. I don’t recall what was said exactly, only that there were some lame attempts at humour on my part and the topic of our professor’s sexual preference came up. I had definitely noticed her before. She was one of the three hottest girls in the class (the other two being “hot Asian girl” and “hot girl with a laptop who doesn’t talk”). Before that day I only knew her as “hot girl who sits on the other side of the room”. After that encounter, she was Vincenza.

*****

I woke up Monday morning in my usual haze of questions (who am I? where am I? am I gay?). But there was another one. How long until Shakespeare class?

*****

The last time we spoke was just before the holidays. She had not been in class for weeks. I feared that she had dropped the course. A part of me was afraid that talking with me might have had something to do with it. Like all of a sudden she realized, “I took this three hour Shakespeare course to meet cute guys and this is what I get? Ugh!” I stare at her from across the room, agonizing whether or not I should say “Hello”. The class ends and we begin to file out.

“Hello.”
“I know, where have I been, right?” she says, effortlessly reading my mind.

I was relieved. It turned out she was away with a concussion that she got at her job as a karate instructor. Thank God. It had nothing to do with me. We talk on the way to her car and she invites me to a club. It is an invitation that I decline, but it means a lot to me that it was given. She drives off and I already miss her.

*****

From the moment I step onto the bus to Finch until six o’ clock I have no face-to-face dialogue with anyone. The CD of the day is Poses by Rufus Wainwright. It is all the company I need.

I find time to study. Plenty. It’s my New Year’s resolution to be better in school. To be better. I don’t actually walk from location to location so much as I sleepwalk. An hour long nap at Innis. A brief slumber during the first of three short movies in Film class. At Gerstein I’m reading Hamlet one second and drifting towards the border of the undiscovered country the next. I wait and wait for six.

*****

We exchange a few MSN messages over the holidays. The first comes immediately after I have sent her an e-mail declining her invite to the Mod club. The e-mail is full of my usual wit and self-deprecation and awkwardness. She says that I am funny. On another day I ask her about the message attached to her MSN name. She has written out some lyrics from Radiohead‘s High And Dry in a garbled, truncated form. She explains that she didn’t have enough space to put it down properly. Vowels r missing. We discuss songs we like for a couple of minutes. The last message I get from her is on New Year’s Day. It is nothing special, but I cherish it. I only wish I had actually been online to receive it. A missed opportunity if there ever was one.

*****

It’s six o’ clock and I realize that my expectations for seeing this girl are based on insubstantial non-events. There are no grounds for my excitement. Desperation is a possibility. I have once again given up on “The Adriana Thing” (copyright Alex Lee) and if this venture yields no returns then I’ve got no one to chase. That, to me, is a fate worse than futility. It’s like Donald says in Adaptation:

You are what you love, not what loves you.

I bump into her just as we’re both entering class. My word, she is gorgeous. We exchange hushed greetings and end up sitting together. How were your holidays and all that. Neither of us has done the reading for today’s class. Perfect. Professor Warley begins on the history of the sonnet and her discomfort is immediate. I draw a hangman’s post on the back of my notes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ MOVIE

She misses on the first four letters, but eventually gets it. Pulp Fiction. “BEST MOVIE EVER,” I write. Her turn.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ MOVIE

An O reveals most of the puzzle and she worries that I’ve already got it figured it out. I don’t, but shortly after I correctly guess Old School. She underlines “BEST MOVIE EVER”. I would have figured it out sooner if I knew I was dealing with a girl who was awesome.

We stop when the professor starts getting into the actual sonnets. I forgot to bring my book today because I thought we were doing Hamlet and she offers me hers. At first, she holds it between us. Its a big book, so eventually I put my hand on it to steady it. We hold the book between us and I’m desperately trying not to look at her as the professor reads romantic lyric after romantic lyric. At one point our hands accidentily touch and I’m embarrassed. She doesn’t seem to notice, which is good I think. At the end of the class we get back our in-class essays from last term. She’s afraid to look at her mark. I walk her to her car and just before we get in I convince her to look along with me. We flip to the last page like we’re ripping off bandages. Not too good for either of us, which puts a slight damper on things. She climbs into her car and I won’t see her for another week.

*****

I wouldn’t call this class disappointing at all. She sat next to me. We played hangman. We talked. For whatever reason, a pretty girl has decided to let me into her life and I’m not going to squander this opportunity. Next week…I ask her to go to lunch. It’s going to be a long week.

ON NEXT WEEK’S EPISODE: Alex asks Vincenza to go on a lunch date! Jess dumps Will for Heath Ledger! Will dumps Jess for Heath Ledger! Also: Gary, Brian and Max learn the true meaning of friendship and survival…by circle-jerking each other. Don’t miss the next exciting episode of…WAMBAG Beach.

Okay, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over — an analyst and a therapist. The world’s first analrapist.