boy story: Wilbur, the curly red-haired coloradan

My apartment went on a roommate date to an acoustic guitar concert. The few of us girls enjoyed what was a exciting night of deep lyrics and provo heartthrobs.

After the show, we walked by the stage, and caught a close glance at one of the performers.

He had played in one of the last bands. Just to give you a picture of this guy: he was wearing shorts and long socks pulled up half-way to his knees, tucked into purple keds. He had a goofy smile and red curly hair, and he was gangly and awkward, but in a cute sort of way. He was a healthy mix of an young Ron Weasley, and Prince Harry. but more awkward. and curly hair. For the sake of this post, we shall call him Wilbur.

I whispered to my roommate, Jenny, as we were leaving, "I kinda want to talk to that kid."
To which she responded, "I'll go with you if you want," she's an awesome wing-woman, "But if you can start a conversation with him, I'll be very impressed."

What was I going to say?
"Hey! You did great! I really liked your set"
To which he would respond, "Thanks! glad you liked it." He might throw in a "thanks for coming" or a "Like us on facebook" too. then that would be the end.

She was right. How could I start a conversation that would be more than two sentences?

Challenge accepted.



So I walked right up to his silly red curly head and said, "Gosh, you look familiar, are you from Colorado?"

Expecting a: "No, I'm from Utah/Arizona/California/Wyoming"and hoping for a: "But Colorado! My roommate/buddy/bishop/dog's uncle has some specific connection to Colorado..."
Taking the chance that conversation would ensue. There's always a connection to the great CO.


What I did NOT expect was what happened:
 "Gosh, you look familiar, are you from Colorado?"
"YA! I am"
"Wait, really?" I was just asking you that to start a conversation. "Denver stake?" thinking he just picked up on my cue, and was playing along,

"Columbine stake."
"Wait, what?! really?"
flabbergasted. That's my stake. "What high school did you go to?"
"CHS"
"REALLY?!" not my high school, but very close by. We probably know tons of people in common. "When did you graduate?!" I might have actutally met him before!
"I graduated in '09.  I served my mission in the Philippines, I'm O positive blood type. what else would you like to know?"
I laughed. It was funny.
"Sorry I just got back from my mission. clearly I'm still awkward. you guys probably think I'm a freak."
Smile. "No we don't"
"So would you maybe want to hang out sometime?'
"Sure!"
pause
Me: "You're just back from your mission right?"
Him: "Ya. ha ha"
Me:  "Well, let me tell you how this goes. here's the part where you..."the rest of my sentence was interrupted by his acknowledging some adoring fan in the distance with a  head nod, before pulling out his phone.
"let's do this. what's your name again?"
Me: "Averill."
Jenny: "Like April with a 'Vuh'" like I said, she's the best wing-woman.
Me: "a-v-e-r-i-l-l"
Wilbur: "Averill. that sounds like a medicine prescription" pause, "But in a...beautiful way"
Huh. I've gotten a lot of responses from that name, but never that.

I contained my giggles until we were walking out the door, when Jenny and I then burst into laughter. Later as we relay the story to our other roommates, I found that what Jenny thought was so funny: "I didn't think she'd even get a conversation, and he got her number. It's bewildering" (that's where the nickname wilbur arose)
I was thinking "heck, I was just trying to prove that I could start a conversation with a random boy. Turns out we were only ten blocks and one grade apart!"

We chit-chatted about my incredible forwardness, and talked about other boys in our lives.
Rachel then said, "I'm rooting for the curly-haired red-head. What's his name?"
I looked at Jenny.
She looked back at me.

the room went silent.

Then roared raucous with laughter.


no one remembered his name!
"Um...He kinda looked like a Wilbur...?"