Editor’s note: The following is a continuing journal of a fictional college student. It is intended to be a humorous and enjoyable feature about an average Joe. Though written by Iowa State’s own Scott Jacobson, a Daily staff writer, people, places and events detailed below are not analogous to a real student.

February 25, 2000

So there I was, hanging out at the library, of all places, wondering how nine out of the 10 books I needed for my research paper could be checked out at the same time, when I heard a frustrated sigh from the computer cubicle next to me.

Curious to see who was sharing in my struggles, I leaned back, casually checking the clock while stealing a glance at my neighbor at the same time. Doing a double-take, I was startled to find a familiar face frowning at the uncooperative computer screen.

It was her.

I hadn’t seen her for a few weeks, but there was no doubt that the nice young lady next to me was the same one who had spilled drinks on me a few Fridays back only to join me in a pleasant interaction that ended all too quickly when her friends stole her away.

My sister calls it destiny, while my boys call it desperation. But I just think of it as a definite possibility.

And here she was, sitting three feet from me, just waiting for me to strike up a conversation and pick up where we left off. Or something like that.

What choice did I have? If I lean over and say something, there’s a chance that she won’t even remember me from that night. Then again, maybe her sigh was a sign to me that she was sitting there waiting to be talked to.

However, if I simply walk away without saying a word, I’ll have to learn to live with the fact that I suck.

So I e-mailed Eddie.

After a few minutes, I got Eddie’s response, which wasn’t much help. All he had to say was, “You mean I’m supposed to believe that you’re hanging out at the library?”

So much for that lifeline.

After agonizing a few more minutes as to what I should do, I decided to avoid an ulcer and just say something to her and pray for the best.

Trying to act as subtle as possible, I slowly stood from my chair, picked up my book-bag and proceeded to dump the contents on the floor next to me. Oops.

As she turned to lend a clumsy guy a hand, she made eye contact with me, and it was just like in one of those cheesy office scenes from the movies where two people are picking stuff up and they notice the undeniable passion brewing between them.

Ok, maybe it was slightly less dramatic than that since I only had one book in my bag. But she did help me pick it up.

I acted surprised. “Hey, how are you doing? I haven’t talked to you for a while.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I’ve been super busy and haven’t gone out since, well, that night that you and I talked at the bar.”

She remembered. Giddy up.

“So how have you been?”

“Fine.” Then with a weird look, she continued. “You know, I didn’t know if you were ever going to talk to me again. You’ve kind of blown me off the last few times I’ve seen you.”

“What?”

“Well, I’ve seen you at the Rec, and you always just walk right by without a word or even a wave. I mean, it’s no big deal.”

“At the Rec? Wait a second, let me explain.” I was afraid this might happen. “You see, when I work out, I don’t wear my glasses. When I don’t wear my glasses, I’m pretty much worthless as far as the whole seeing thing. Trust me, if I could have seen you at the Rec, I would have talked to you.”

Man, I do suck.

So we talked for a little while longer about random misunderstandings and such before she had to take off for class.

Once again, she left without giving me any clue about how to get a hold of her, but she did say she’s going to be at the same show I was going to tomorrow night.

So my schedule is pretty clear from here. First, make an appointment to get contact lenses. Second, go to the show and hope for the best. Third, find a new topic for my research paper.

While it amazes me that my social life was sparked at the library, I just hope I don’t have to make it a habit.