THE DAILY TOP LIST

I was thinking the other day about the first time I met people. Ah, memories. Many came to mind that weren't so exciting such as discussing the Braves with Chuck or studying for a religion test with Kelli. Some were formal like when Little Joe assigned me to cover soccer for the Maroon. And so on. Here are my top five recollections of first meetings.

5) Nick. 

Often times, I make what they call a bad first impression. Take for example my first conversation with Nick sometime before the Spring 2003 semester. I was at David's house watching football when my phone rang with an unknown number. 

Me: Hello.

Nick: Hi, is this Gene?

Me: Uh, yeah. 

Nick: Good. I got your number from Little Joe. I'm Nick, and I will be the new sports editor in the spring. 

Me: Oh-kay. 

Nick: Yeah. Joe told me you did a good job in the fall. Would you like to be the assistant sports editor? 

Me: Sure.

Nick: Cool. Well, I look forward to meeting you when school starts. It should be fun. 

Me: Uh-huh. 

Nick: See you soon.  

Me: Bye. 

I think his word to describe me at first was asshole. Who could blame him? 

4) Bob.

In my first semester at the Maroon, I was eager to make a good impression and fit in at the office. I also put the veterans there on a pedestal. I guess because they made the college newspaper, and I was a freshman. 

So when Bob, then the editor-in-chief, mumbled something about falling behind on a research paper for a journalism class due to his editor duties, I decided to help. He needed a book on some famous journalist but said he didn't have the time to go to the library. 

I asked him for the name of the book and the library number thing and sprinted to the library. I wanted to get it as soon as possible, as if I were a dog playing fetch. I thought returning quickly would show my enthusiasm and help me get in with their clickish group. 

Even though it's kind of a funny and memorable story, it seems worse than pathetic now. I don't even think Bob finished the assignment on time. 

3) Paul.

In eighth grade, I had all my classes with the same 25 people. That's how I met Paul and Minkus. (I can't recount my first encounter with Minkus. I probably mocked him.) 

A couple of months into the school year, I was at my locker near the end of the school day when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Paul, and he asked to borrow my LA history book to complete a past due assignment as he couldn't find his. That was a Friday. 

On Monday, I asked for my book back from this kid I had only talked to once. He said he had misplaced it. (This is the boy's trademark. He has left three ATM cards in the machine and locked himself out of two cars with the engine running.) 

We both had to get new books. On the last day of the school year when we had to clean out our lockers, Paul found my textbook buried in his locker. I'm not sure how we became friends. 

2) Marcus and D.

Like I said before, sometimes I don't come off too well on the first meeting. In 2004 (I think), Marcus and D separately found this out the hard way in relation to baseball. I was wearing my Cubs hat on my initial conversation with both. Remember, I had never talked to them before.

D: I see the Cubs won today. They must be good this year. 

Me: Apparently. 

Marcus: Oh, you're a Cubs fan. That's cool. So, they win today, man? 

Me: If they had played. 

Marcus and D fondly remember those conversations now, calling me "disgusting." 

1) Kaila. 

In the spring semester of 2003, I went to my first of many parties at Gillie's dorm room. It was my first experience hanging out with Marooners outside of the Maroon office. 

I had such a good time that many thought I was horribly drunk at the end of the night. In fact, I hadn't had a single drop of alcohol. However, they insisted that I not drive home drunk. So, I slept on the girls' couch. My first conversation with Kaila came next, and it didn't help my I'm-not-drunk campaign. 

Me: I have to wake up at 9 a.m. Can I have an alarm clock? 

Kaila: Sure. (She retrieves one. I try to set it.)

Me: This is impossible. There's no way to set this thing. It has no buttons. 

Kaila: Give it to me. (She then sets it immediately to my amazement.)

Me: Wow. You have gypsy magic. 

Now, whenever Kaila does something well, I attribute it to her gypsy magic. It is very real. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

My mom and I ran some errands Tuesday afternoon. We get in the car. Mom is excited about the Fleetwood Mac concert. "Fucking Stevie Nicks. I wonder if she'll come out with the bird. They all did each other, got into fights, all that bullshit." 

Mom had Oprah on her mind. "You got to hear these four hot chicks play the violin. It's so fucking fine. They dance and stuff with violins, but weird violins." 

I mention Oprah buying all that KFC for everyone. "It's not even fucking fried. Fucking grilled." 

Mom asks me a question, but I ignore it and say something about cashing a $50 check I got from my credit card company. "That's all you fucking worried about." 

As mom is about to turn into the bank drivethru from a one-lane street, a car goes by her real fast, nearly hitting her car. "Look at this bitch. Made it a fucking two-way." 

While we're in the bank line, a noisy truck pulls up. "This fucking truck behind us."

Mom is worried about making it to the dentist on time. "Gonna catch every fucking red light. Everyone." (We made it.)

We get to the pool place. "Full house here. Motherfuck." 

Back at home, I have some clothes piled up. "The clothes are still on the fucking floor!"  

We're watching the crazy House finale, and mom is upset with Cameron. "Just go to the fucking sperm bank and get some." 

PARTING SHOT

I read the LSU baseball story at work Monday. 

Me: This story is weird. 

Marcus: So are you. But we keep you around.