Around 2AM at 7-Eleven a few Saturdays ago, I was waiting in line to purchase a delicious and tasty Boston cream donut. In front of me stood a girl with a familiar face, but I did not immediately recognize her so I continued to wait in line, munching.
Until she turned around, looked at me with blood-shot eyes and spoke with a mouth that seemed to limp with every word, “HEY! You’re … Don’t I know you?”
I knew that this girl was no stranger, but I still had no idea who she was. We both stood there in the 7-11 line for a good minute, asking each other where we lived, if we knew any random mutual people, had a class together … we knew each other from somewhere, but neither of us could pinpoint the birth of our now aborted friendship.
She bought her items, said bye, “Even though I don’t remember I know I love you!” and left.
And that’s when it hit me!
I knew her. I knew exactly who she was.
I do not have the best “gay-dar” when it comes to guys, and with girls its seemingly worse.
What I realized: We knew each other from when I mistook her for a lesbian at our college classes placement testing!
It was last March on a Temple University testing day. I was so nervous, probably like every other kid there. The test started at 10 AM, however, it was 20 minutes after ten and a mob of angry students wanting to begin their tests loitered outside the classroom.
And that’s when I saw her. She was laughing with someone who seemed older. As we all processed into the room to test, they hugged, kissed on the cheek, and said, “I love you.”
Lesbians!
Excited that someone else was gay, I began talking to her. I then asked where her girlfriend went.
“Girlfriend?”
“Yeah … the girl that you were with earlier.”
“Huh? Oh, my sister?”
And I just looked at her — an awkward smile glued to my face.
I didn’t speak to her for the rest of the 6-hour testing period.
~Matt Petrillo
Philadelphia, PA
mattp@temple.edu
