Friday, July 15, 2011
We were all new. It was the first event of the year. Piled on the bar's top deck with graduate students from all different disciplines, it was a sort of forced mingling. Well, a sort of forced mingling that we failed at for the most part, until my friends and I were approached by a fellow who introduced himself as a dancer. We all talked for a bit about our programs, life in Pittsburgh, neighborhoods, hobbies, the usual student small talk.
Before leaving, we took a group photo and my friend, "Steve", offered up contact information so that this new guy could tag our group on Facebook. New guy unfurled his arm and offered a marker, no paper. Steve inscribed the contact information on the new guy's arm.
I got a glimpse of his forearm afterwards.
In thick blue ink, drawn on this stranger's arm is my name and my email address. So much for friends that understand the concept of not writing young women's personal information on strangers' arms. When interrogated as to his reasons, Steve's response was, "That guy was weird."