The Idiot

So there I was, bunkered down against the side of a wall, body electric with fear, adrenaline pulsing through my veins. Physiologically, my body had entered fight or flight mode, but I chose the lesser known third option, usually reserved for deer paralyzed by onrushing headlights: I froze up. Is this the beginning of one of my boot camp stories perhaps? Or maybe the time I told my professor I was sick, only to have him catch sight of me later that day on the tennis courts?

Much, much worse. This was moments ago. As I emerged from the LBJ Student Center I glimpsed none other than Marisa Pantelqqqqzausis and Mike, along with two other friends, walking in my direction. A social encounter was inevitable… Unless I could somehow tactfully avoid the group! Luckily the campus is rife with walls, pillars, hedges, buildings, moving cars, you name it. I found the nearest hiding spot remained there until they had passed, thus avoiding the confrontation. Did I mention these are some of my best friends at this school?

Ok, I’ll say it—What is wrong with me? Are things really so bad that I see the campus as a social mine field, always peaking around corners, rushing from class to class like an socio-phobic apparition? Is it actually me who wears head phones, connected to nothing so that it appears as though I can’t hear people saying hello? Or the guy who won’t wear his glasses in the quad so as not to see anyone, thus inviting social interaction? (I can't believe I'm typing these things; worse still, I can't believe I'm not making this up)

The answer to all of these questions is, regrettably, yes. But then there is the other side of the coin. The guy who is a social butterfly, who will talk to anyone, no matter what? Why this perpetual oscillation between total anxiety and total lack of inhibitions whatsoever? Too many questions… Not many answers.

Wait, there’s a simple answer, and as often is the case, it’s abundantly clear: I’m an idiot. Perhaps I watched too many Seinfeld episodes, and my attempted emulation of George Costanza has come full circle. Or maybe I just find it funny. Or maybe, just maybe, I’m an idiot.