No Thanks

Once I dreamt of being an astrophysicist. I romanticized the thought of having a job that regularly involved spending quiet nights gazing at the stars, moons, and planets from the high deserts or quiet mountaintops flanked with telescope arrays. So in high school, when I was still young, ideaslistic, motivated, and fortunate enough to be taking college classes paid by the state I decided to take the first steps.

After two semesters of honors physics in high school (which on our block schedule translated into two years worth), I had my eyes set on scarier sounding physics classes. Since I was only a lowly high school student, though, I needed explicit approval from a university physics professor who had taught a course like introduction to quantum physics.

Imagine this: I went the extra light year and researched the physics professors at the university, checking for the professors who had taught the class in the last few semesters. I e-mailed them, and even set up appointments to visit their office and get approval from the few who replied.

My first meeting was a miss. The professor eye-balled me really funny at the mention that I was a high school student. "Did you take the one year physics intro sequence course here?" He wanted to know.

"No," was the answer. "But I took Honors Physics 1 and 2 in my high school."

He frowned at me, and insisted that wasn't enough. I had to fight to keep that silly, friendly smile on my face. "But it's the same material," I gently suggested.

"But you don't want holes in your knowledge," he retorted.

That was the first shooting star to my astrophysical aspirations. After a few more meaningless exchanges I grabbed my bag, thanked him hollowly, and left. So much for the approval, so much for a mentor, so much for a professional taking any interest or being even remotely moved upon meeting a young student whose hopes and dreams, to which he held a key, were strong enough to accelerate him past the inertial laziness that holds back most other teens from pursuing anything other than sex and listening to cheap music with boring lyrics.

Funny how fate makes fools of us all. Four years later my parents dragged me to a pot-luck style Thanksgiving that was hosted by some friends of theirs. Reluctant to crawl out of my home cucoon on my short college break, I went. When we got there and I spotted that same professor in the house. I froze, then shook it off, pinched my mom and vehemently whispered into her ear why we must leave now.

Of course that didn't happen, so I spent the rest of the night awkwardly trying to avoid him. Gravitating towards the crowded corners or people-less places, I never made eye contact with him, only spitefully glancing his way on rare occassions.

But OF COURSE, of all the dozens of people pot-lucking, both of my parents had to strike up a conversation with him. And of course they had to tell him where I go to school and how I minored in astronomy. And of course I was sitting on the floor with my back towards them working up a nervous sweat while planting my face in my plate full of stuffing trying desperately to work some Harry Potter magic that would make me go poof.

But of course, upon hearing that I go to a school with one of the best astronomy programs in the damn country he had to loudly rehearse my name aloud a few times, and I had to pretend I didn't hear anything. And then of course he walked right up to me, repeating my name several times, and when I didn't turn around he touched my shoulder, and I jumped in a nervous twitch, and faked a smile, and wanted to sink down to the earth's mantle where I would dissolve under all the heat and pressure down there.

The rest is typical. He held out his arm, which I reluctantly shaked, and he gripped my hand hard and tight like some cocky businessman. "Nice to meet you," he said warmly and emphatically looking me in the eyes. I looked him right into the eyes for a snap second (I couldn't bear any longer), and wondered if those eyes registered absolutely no recollection of my face.

"My name is professor so and so, and I hear you're studying astronomy."

"Yes, among other things."

"You know that's exactly my field. I have a lab here and I do research. You know if you're ever interested you should come by, maybe you could work with me next year on your time off."

My heart sunk down to my ass. This was like torture to hear. If only he would have said that four years earlier he would have made one boy's dream come true; come true completely. I would have said yes and been the happiest soul in the solar system.

But I begrudge too much, and too strongly. I held back a shurg and tried to fake a smile, "Oh, oh. Nice to meet you. Thank you."