With all of the chaos Homecoming weekend entails, you may have just missed the love of your life.
Between football games, school spirit, and maybe the occasional keg stand, Homecoming is when Queen’s students show up in the masses. Amidst a crowd of red, blue, and yellow, it’s easy for the many faces to blur into one tri-coloured soup.
Following this Homecoming weekend, The Journal wants to link some of these missed connections. Who knows, maybe they’ll be going for round two, with this weekend’s “FOCO” creeping up tomorrow. They say lightning doesn’t strike twice, but rules don’t apply when it comes to matters of the heart.
If you think you’re the special someone mentioned in one of these anonymous stories and want to the writer, email [email protected].
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The air at the darty smelled like stale beer, and nearly everyone was a stranger until he smiled at me over a red solo cup. He wore a worn-out Queen’s University rugby shirt and a grin. We talked about classes we’d never take and places we’d like to go, laughing like we’d known each other for years.
For a moment, the noise faded, and it was just us. Someone yelled about the football game starting, and he disappeared into the crowd, leaving me without a name and the lingering feeling that maybe, just maybe, I’d see him again.
If you’re roughly 6’1″ with brown eyes, a mullet, and a hint of a moustache—thanks for chatting.
***
Last Saturday, I was making heavy eye with the girl in front of me in line at Stages. We spent the whole hour-and-a-half line sneaking glances and smiles, but when I finally made it into the club, I couldn’t find her anywhere! She was very pretty, and I almost guarantee the attraction was mutual.
I’m pretty sure one of the friends you were with was named Hannah, and you may have been in my PSYC 100 tutorial last year. I hope you read this; I’d love to share a smile with you another time.
***
Most would assume working during Homecoming weekend guarantees boredom. I thought the same when I was scheduled for both my jobs during my last HOCO as a fourth-year. The fear of missing out hit hard as I left my housemates in their tricolour, heading out in my all-black hub uniform. But the night wasn’t so uneventful after all.
While working coat check, a woman eagerly told me about a guy she hoped to reconnect with at her 20-year reunion. They were in the same program and had plans to meet the next day, hinting at something more than just catching up. I wished her luck, feeling curious about how it would turn out and a bit disappointed I wouldn’t be in the loop anymore.
The next day, during my shift at a clothing store on Princess St., I spotted her again—this time with the guy! They were strolling through the store, laughing and flirting, totally in sync. It was like witnessing a hallmark movie in real-time. To the woman who chatted with me about her “boy problems” while I was hanging up her coat, thank you for including me in your HOCO chaos
I’m curious to know if you guys hit it off as well as it seemed. Was it great but only for the weekend, or is this the story you’ll share at the dinner table 30 years from now? I can’t help but wonder if that might be me someday when I go to my HOCO reunion sometime in the future—wishing you all the best!
***
This HOCO, I bumped into a really cute boy at a darty on Frontenac St. He told me he liked my accent, and we got talking. He was tall and wearing overalls with no shirt on underneath, and at one point, helped my best friend open her beer bottle with his teeth.
At the end of our drunken conversation, he asked for my number. Without thinking, I gave him my Australian number, completely forgetting about my new Canadian SIM card. So, to the overall-wearing boy who had a thing for Australians, I didn’t forget to text you back—I just stupidly forgot I was on exchange. Call me!
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