The Class Ring

I had hoped growing up and going to college would make me magically become like the girls I saw on TV and the movies; comfortable around and popular with boys.  My hopes were in vain.

At MCC some boys did notice me occasionally, but they were the ones I didn't want to know.  There was one kid in Biology who sat behind me and struck up a conversation on the first day.  I had no idea how to react to him.  I could tell we had different standards and looked at the world through different eyes just by the way he dressed and talked.  The hippie generation had given way somewhat to the preppy look, but this young man was still hanging onto the "cool, far-out, psychedelic man," attitude, and I wasn't a bit attracted.  I didn't want to be rude, and I didn't have the people skills to know how to listen, talk with, and get to know someone while still maintaining my distance.  All I knew how to do was avoid him. 

After the second week of smiling and running I was desperate for another solution.  My friend suggested telling him I had a boyfriend, but I didn't like to lie, and I really didn't even want to have a conversation with him.  What I needed was a way to show him without talking that I wasn't interested, like wearing an engagement ring or something.  Hey, that was a good idea. 

I couldn't afford to go out and buy myself a diamond ring, but I could borrow my older brother's class ring and wear it on my left hand so it looked like I was going steady with someone. The next class I came wearing Keith's class ring.  It was too big, so I wrapped a piece of bright yellow yarn tightly around it until it fit snugly on my finger.

As usual, I got to class early, slipped into my seat, and carefully placed my left hand on my desk, prominently displaying the class ring.  My friend came in, sat next to me, looked at my hand and grinned. Just before class started the young man I was trying to fake out came into class.  He smiled as he walked in the door, but I quickly struck up a conversation with my friend.  The young man walked behind me, took his seat, and started to lean forward to talk to me just as the teacher pulled the overhead screen down and began lecturing.  Thank goodness.  All hour I kept my left hand on the desk.  As soon as class was over I grabbed my books and rushed out the door, ducking into the girls restroom as soon as I was in the hall. 

I don't know if the ring did the trick, or just my avoidance, but the young man discouraged easily.  He never talked to me again.  Still, just to be safe, I wore Keith's ring to class entire semester.  It certainly kept me from having to endure uncomfortable discussions with unwanted admirers, but was I also inadvertently discouraging other possible suitors at the same time?