Freshman year I had sort of a thing for this guy Calvin. We had a class together that was notoriously difficult with a professor, Dr. Graham, who was notoriously difficult. We read a book called Cane by Renaissance author Jean Toomer. Not long after the class ended, Dr. Graham retired. I think that’s all the backstory you need for the following texting conversation:
Me: I’m applying for an internship and I have to send them my unofficial transcript and this forced me to reread the personal evaluation Dr. Graham wrote about me all those years ago, and as usual it gave me a mini existential crisis.
Calvin: The man cane in, he caused trauma, and then he quit.
Me: Was “cane” a typo or an allusion?
Me: He cane, he saw, he conquered.
And he never replied. I might come across as kind of amusing on the Internet, when I’ve had time to reflect on what I want to say (and then backspace it about 90% of the time and say something else instead). But my real-life sense of humor is pretty groan-worthy. I think it’s obvious why this relationship never took off.