The Smartt View

I like college students. A lot. They know tons of stuff you probably don’t know. Do you need to know how to download something? Ask a college student. Do you need to know what “download something” even means? Ask a college student. Do you need to know what equipment to buy in order to download something onto another piece of equipment the size of a thimble? Yep! You guessed it. A college student will help you out.

But before you start feeling useless, just know that college students need us seasoned folks too. This was evidenced by my recent conversation with a young male college student.

“Hey! Mrs. Lisa.”

“Hey there, Jimmy (name changed to protect the innocent or guilty). How’s it going?”

“I’m in a dilemma, sort of.”

“I’m great with dilemmas.”

“Well, there’s this girl I really like.”

“Go on.”

“We’ve been hanging out.”

“Hanging out? Like dating?”

“Uh, not really. You know, just hanging out.”

“Okay. What does that mean actually?”

“You know, like, we eat lunch sometimes after class. I see her at meetings and we text each other a lot.”

“Okay. So, what’s the dilemma?”

“Well, I like her. A lot. But she just thinks of me like a friend.”

“When you go to lunch, who pays?”

“We both pay our own way.”

“Right. Right. Yeah, she thinks of you like a friend because you are just a friend. Let me guess. When you go to lunch, you wear shorts and an untucked free t-shirt you got from a blood drive three years ago. Oh, and you probably wear those flip flops you’re wearing now. Am I right?”

“Yes. How did you know?”

“Fifty-one years of living, friend. Fifty-one years of living.”

“So, Mrs. Lisa, what should I do? I mean, how can I let her know I want to be more than friends?”

“Well, there’s this archaic concept that still works when tried. It’s called a date. A real date. It’s an actual event, not just a square on a calendar. Here’s how it works. You call her on the phone. You don’t text or video chat or send a Facebook message. No. You call. You say something like, ‘I’d like to take you out to dinner and a movie Friday night.’ If she says she’d like that, you say, ‘Great! I’ll pick you up at 6:00.’ When you pick her up, you go to her door. You wear real clothes. Real clothes, friend. That means khaki pants or jeans. It means a button-down shirt tucked in. It means a belt, socks, real shoes, the whole nine yards. No baseball cap.

It means you pay for everything. Everything. Oh, and your cell phone? It never leaves your pocket. In fact, you’re only taking your cell phone in case the movie theater is overtaken by aliens and you need to call 911.”

The handsome young man agreed to give it a try. I felt certain his efforts would be met with success. Why? Because sometimes a woman is just waiting for a guy to man up and take some initiative. Oh, and she’s looking for moral courage and leadership too. In an era of changing technology, trust me. Some things never change.