4.10.2013

CAMRYN, GERTRUDE, AND THE MYSTERY OF THE BOTANICAL MAN

Generally, I like to think that I'm a pretty observant person. The kind of person who notices when someone cuts their hair, when it's going to rain, or when the road is about to end in an abrupt death cliff of sizable proportions. You know, the little things. But after this experience, I have decided that I am now an extreme failure as a certified "Person With Eyes That Can See." Seriously, I'm considering giving my eyes to Stevie Wonder or something because I assume he'd use them more than I apparently do. But before I head over to the eye surgeon's office, I suppose I'll type this story out. Prepare yourself for something truly ridiculous:

Four months ago, my roommate Gertrude* (name changed for confidentiality) and I befriended a few guys in our Botany** (subject also changed for confidentiality because SECRETS) class in order to feel like semi-successful human beings. You know, the kinds with friends. At least that's what I've heard about successful people. Anyways. 

We became jolly old friends- friends who pretended to care about each other but were really just using each other to get 100% on our attendance quizzes, because Botany was a lot harder than we realized it would be. But along the way, one of the guys, let's call him Dexter, became part of a weird, creepy inside joke between good ol' Gert and I. 

You see, Dexter is an amiable, outgoing, flirtatious young man. Maybe he was just being friendly when he asked about our lives, eavesdropped on our conversations, wrote on our papers when we fell asleep, and generally seemed like he was into us. Maybe. But, lacking a source of entertainment in our lives, Gertrude and I decided that he was most definitely interested in one of us. And thus, the Dexter joke was born.

Before I say what I'm about to say, I must first explain that neither Gertrude nor I found Dexter particularly attractive. He was nice, but definitely not "our type" (which we aren't even actually aware of ourselves. Years from now this could prove to be an issue). Nonetheless, we soon convinced ourselves that he would ask one of us out before the semester was over. He just had to. No one could resist us- especially Gerty, because, I mean, her name is just so alluring.

But as the weeks flew by, nothing happened. He never asked us if we wanted to study for tests together, or work on our Botany projects in the library, or even go on a romantic stroll past the duck pond...talking about Botany. And feelings. But we didn't give up on our bet. Surely he would break down and do it. Our pride was at stake.

Now, I'm not really proud of this, but I have a confession to make: I am a Grade-A Facebook stalker. Almost superhuman. Nancy Drew ain't got nothin' on this. So I found Dexter the other day without even knowing his last name and started, well, creeping. Shamelessly. I was considering adding him as a friend, but decided to scroll down a little farther first. And I found something rather curious.

It was a video of him dancing at a wedding reception to Justin Bieber's "Baby." I fought back the dinner that was threatening to make a reappearance, muscled on through every horribly choreographed dance move and the shrill crooning of a boy yet to experience the joys of puberty, and vowed within myself that something like this will NEVER happen at my wedding reception. EVER.

But it left me with questions. Lots of questions. Like, why was he positioned in the middle of the groomsmen singing to the bride? Was he the best man? Did he really think that the repeated use of the cabbage patch was a good idea? ...Is he a Belieber? I was intrigued, to say the least. And then I found her.

A woman had posted a picture on his timeline that was apparently supposed to be funny, and not only did she share his last name, but she was also wearing a wedding dress in her profile picture. "Aha! This must be his sister-in-law!" I thought naïvely as I clicked on her...
                                                        
*cue moment of realization* ...


IT WAS HIS WIFE. HE IS MARRIED. HE IS SO MARRIED RIGHT NOW.

Gertrude wasn't home, but I had to tell her what I discovered immediately because this was the most hilarious thing in the history of ever. This was the texting conversation that followed:

Me: GERTUDE DEXTER IS MARRIED WHAT THE HECK
Gertrude: YOU ARE KIDDING ME
M: NO HAHAHAHAHA I'M LAUGHING SO HARD RIGHT NOW
G: THAT EXPLAINS WHY HE DIDN'T ASK US OUT
M: EXACTLY WE MUST NOT BE THAT REPULSIVE BUT SERIOUSLY HOW DID WE NOT NOTICE EVER
G: HOW DID YOU FIND OUT?!
M: I WILL SHOW YOU WHEN YOU GET HOME
G: I HEART YOUR FACEBOOK STALKING SKILLS AND YOUR USE OF CAPITALS
M: I HEART THAT YOU USED THE WORD HEART AS A VERB AND ALSO IN RELATION TO ME
G: I WOULD HEART YOU MORE IF YOU HAD DISCOVERED THIS EARLIER
M: SORRY YOU DEVELOPED FEELINGS BEFORE WE FIGURED THIS OUT I KNOW YOU MUST BE HURTING RIGHT NOW
G: HEART BROKEN BUT PRIDE RESTORED. IT'S AN INTERESTING CONUNDRUM
M: QUITE A DEBACLE, YES

I just...wow. How did we never notice? FOUR MONTHS of sitting on his left side, and we never once realized that he was wearing a ring. We are idiots. But what's weirder is that he never once mentioned his wife, or married person things, or acted like what you'd expect someone who was MARRIED to act. I would hope that when I'm married someday my husband will at least mention me ONCE in conversation around younger girls he associates with over a four month period- in fact, I hope he won't shut up about me. I hope that he'll lose friends because of how much he talks about me......I also hope that he won't be associating with freshman girls for four months and making them think he is into them. Ew.

But, like Gertrude said, at least our pride is restored. There definitely was a reason why he didn't ask us out besides everything that could potentially be wrong with us (which is quite a list and most of them aren't potential)...Sweet gravy, this is still creeping me out. It's even been a day since this happened, and it still makes me laugh hysterically because it's just so flippin' strange. 

And we have class with him tomorrow. I don't think Gerty and I are going to be able to keep straight faces. Every time he talks I'll probably have to stifle a peal of spazzy laughter.

Moral of the story? Don't take Botany.

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