That’s why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they’d call them something else.

His name was Steve.  And he was on the wrestling team at JMU.  He was in a few of my Health Science classes.  He was from New Jersey.  My friend Laura became obsessed with him so naturally I became obsessed with him, too.  Now, I know what you’re thinking… New Jersey…  Wrestling team…  Angela was obsessed with a tan gorilla Guido juicehead.   No wonder she loves Jersey Shore.  No.  Not even close.  Steve was fit without being too jacked up.  He was tall, dark and handsome.

I knew Steve took cycling classes at UREC, so when I “coincidentally” went to these same classes I would match my shoes to my clothes because he would be in there.  I would wear make-up and put my hair is cute pigtail braids.  I was that girl that I now make fun of at the gym.  I would always make sure my bike was along the side wall so that I had a good view of him during class.  Let me remind you… I was 20, horny and had too much time on my hands.   This went on for a semester.  I was “in love” with Steve and he didn’t even know who I was… or so I thought. 

My 21^st brthday fell on a Tuesday.  Anyone who went to JMU knows that Tuesday night in the ‘Burg means 25 cent wings and karaoke at B-Dubs.  It was on.  I remember my friends saying “It’s your birthday – you have to do what we say.”  With these bitches as friends, I knew was in trouble.   We arrived at B-Dubs and they ordered a round of shots, well.. just for me.  My friends didn’t drink because they had classes the next day.  Bitches.  The standard blow-job shot without my hands (see picture above).  The ever-so disgusting cement mixer shot (see picture below).  I hated my friends that night.   But, I did the shots because I “had to do with they said and it was my birthday.”

Karaoke started and I was called up on stage.

 “This song is dedicated to you Angela from your friends.  Happy Birthday!”  Awww, how sweet I thought to myself.  The first note came on and my stomach churned.   Those bitches!!

…..Like a virgin.  Hey!!  Touched for the very first time…  Like a vir-ir-i-rir-gin… when you’re heart beats next to mine…

 The song continued all the way through and each time the word “virgin” was said, they all pointed to me.  MORTIFIED!  (Hey,  I couldn’t help that I was  a late bloomer.  After 11 shots (yes, we have the page to prove each shot) they dragged my drunk ass back home where I proceed to vomit my brains out into the wee hours of the night.   But being a good Asian girl, I set my alarm for my 8 am class… the class that I had with Steve.  I couldn’t miss THAT class. 

I looked and felt like death when my alarm went off but I got ready, grabbed some pretzels and a soda and headed to class.  I was still drunk.  But he was there so it was okay.  But this class was different.  I noticed that during this class he kept looking at me.  I kept catching his eye with mine.  I got really excited.  My “love” knew who I was.  When the class ended, the room started dwindled down to Steve, the professor, one of Steve’s friends and me. 

And he was still looking at me.

And then he started smiling. 

And my heart skipped a beat.

And then, at the exact moment I thought he was going to say “HI”, he belted out “…Like a virgin, touched for the very first time…”

And then he pointed. 

And laughed. 

At me. 

And his friend started pointing and laughing. 

That’s when I grabbed my stuff and booked it back home, crawled under the covers and hid until the next day. 

That was the end of my Steve obsession. 

And the end of cycling classes.

And, especially, the end of karaoke.