It was June 2004, I had just turned 18 and was transferring to the University of Texas at Dallas in the fall. It was one of the freshman orientation weekends, but I wasn't a freshman so I didn't have to go. I had volunteered to help man a booth for H.O.M.A.G.E., the student gay/lesbian organization.
I didn't really know what I was doing there. I wasn't a member of H.O.M.A.G.E. School didn't start for another two months. The campus was a long way from home, and I barely knew how to drive--I remember driving 30 in the right lane, people honking at me all the way there. I ran a few errands first. I picked up a campus map, had my student ID made, and dropped off an application at the college newspaper. But I felt ill at ease and rushed to the student center like there was an invisible string pulling me along. I think I somehow knew it was the most important day of my life, even though I didn't know why yet.
Inside, David, the club president, and I were not getting any business. We had some brochures, a cryptic banner, a sign-up sheet, and a bowl of candy. (Tootsie roll assortment, I think--no wonder.) We were right across from the UTD Power Dancers' booth, which was swamped with Plano stage moms and recently displaced high school cheerleaders. Even the chess club on the left was getting more takers than us.
Then I saw her. My first thought was, what a gorgeous baby dyke! She had gorgeous red hair and freckles, toned arms, and a totally confident smile. My second thought was, nah. She looked way to trendy for me. She had on Hot Topic cargo pants, a graphic tank and an eyebrow ring, and her hair was spiked in the back and flat-ironed over one eye, all MySpace style. Also, I knew she was a freshman, and there was no way a junior was going to go out with a freshman. (Even though Sarah is three months older than me!)
So she noticed the table, strode right over like it was nothing, and introduced herself to David. I buried my face in a brochure. I was so nervous I didn't say anything to her and she left. I saw on the sign-up sheet that her name was Sarah. She also put down her email address, and I furtively copied it onto a scrap of paper. I never wrote her, though, I was way too shy.
A little while later, a couple of parents came over and started asking about H.O.M.A.G.E. They said their daughter was gay and would be starting at UTD in the fall. They seemed super caring and cool. David was talking their ears off about the latest freedom-to-marry initiative, and I kept trying to cut in and tell them about fun stuff the club did, like pool parties and drag shows. I didn't know they were Sarah's parents. When she brought me to meet them the first time, boy, was that a surprise!
School started and I didn't see Sarah again for three months. But that's another story.
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