It’s The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year(?)

It’s the most wonderful time of the year! 

Nope. Not if you’re a single dude in college whose friends already have dates and outfits fixed for the Christmas Dinner. I’ve been in Krea for a little over a year…and that’s just the perfect amount of time to witness a Christmas dinner alone and look forward to another in a week or so. Still with no one to tag along with, mind you. I still remember last year. I got suited up. Dress pants, pinned down shirt, the black formal shoes, the ones that make a “tut tut tut” sound when you walk on tiles. I walk into the Dining Hall. There’s music, there’s food, there’s people chatting, the Christmas spirit was through the roof. I grabbed myself some dinner and sat down with my friends, who were kind enough to ditch their dates (or just bring them along to the table) and break bread with me. Old-school style. 

Now if you’re a curious cat, you’d be asking… ‘why did you dress up just to eat food?’ Well, there is a reason. Or maybe two. The first being the dress code. You have to wear something nice. And second? I had a plan. A real plan. There was this girl, and I told myself this would be the night I finally mustered the courage to ask her to dance. I stood up. Deep breath. Cinematic swelling of imaginary violins. I started walking toward her, shoes tapping heroically (tut tut tut)—the soundtrack to (over?)confidence.

 Would you like to dance with me?
Simple. Direct. No Shakespearean monologue. No unnecessary metaphors about stars aligning. Just a normal sentence delivered by a normal human being. How hard could it be?

But the moment I reached her table, she was already on her way to the dance floor with someone else. Someone taller. With better lighting. And a smile like they had never known rejection in their whole life. I wallowed in my own sadness. Not even my friends were there to save me. Why, you ask? Well, they had dates. And in all honesty, fair play to them…I wouldn’t want them to leave their dates for me either.

And now we’re here, one chaotic year later.

Posters for the Christmas Dinner and Winter Ball are up, and suddenly, the campus has turned into a wildlife documentary about mating rituals. Couples are back to doing what they do best, planning matching outfits. Meanwhile, I’m practicing maintaining eye contact for longer than two seconds without combusting. I thought maybe this year I’d try again, what do the kids these days call it? A Redemption arc? Emotional growth? Maybe I’d finally ask someone in advance. Maybe the same person from last year? 

This time, I had a plan. A beautifully simple plan.
Three steps. Nothing crazy. No overthinking. No panic attacks.

1. Ask if she’s free on the day.
   
2. Propose the idea of joining me for the dinner and the Ball.
   
3. Live with her verdict.
   

Easy. Smooth. Elegant. Romantic.
A plan so simple even I couldn’t mess it up.

We met. We talked for a little while, and the time came.

Me, attempting casual confidence:
“Hey, so what are you doing on the 12th of December?”

She, smiling:

“Nothing, why?”

OH FRICK. OH ACTUAL FRICK. She didn’t know about the dinner. She didn’t know about the Ball. She didn’t know this question was set up like a chess move. How do I salvage this? I need to say something smooth, something charming…something that’ll knock her shoes off and she’ll fall right into my arms.

 “There’s something happening. I’ll… send you an email.”

An EMAIL.
EMAIL???
WHO IN THE HISTORY OF HUMANITY has ever written an EMAIL to ask someone out for a dance???
WHO INVITES SOMEONE TO PROM LIKE A CORPORATE HR MANAGER???
Why not CC admissions office while I’m at it? BCC the vice chancellor?

At that exact moment, I knew it wasn’t going to work. The universe sighed. Santa looked disappointed somewhere. Reindeers paused mid-flight. I could feel destiny turning around and walking out the exit door like, “Yeah, bro, you’re on your own.” I nodded like a malfunctioning robot, said “cool, cool, cool,” and walked away faster than my legs had ever coordinated in their entire lives. So here we are. Another Christmas Dinner. Another Winter Ball. Another year of character growth (allegedly). And the same girl dancing with someone else again, probably.

Maybe some people are built for romance, spotlight moments, slow dances under fairy lights. And maybe I am built for…the free brownie they give away for dessert.

But hey! If nothing else, I can proudly say I shot my shot.
Badly.
Horrifically.
In email format.

Last Christmas, I gave her my heart.
This Christmas, I gave her a Google Calendar invite.

• ball
• college
• entertainment