Someone Special :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

Someone Special When I first saw him, I was sitting in an auditorium complaining to my mother about how cold it was in there. We and hundreds of other student-parent pairs were lined up in rows of the large room waiting to be told what to do by upper-class college students in matching tee shirts. I was scanning, like always, for any interesting guys. Upon finding any that appealed to me, whether by genuine attractiveness, unique clothing or just a pleasant aura, I would watch, study, and try to figure out everything about him, like his attitude, views on the world, and his favorite color. I had been sitting there wondering (probably unlike all of the other kids who were at State University Orientation) what kind of guy I was going to look for when I arrived a month later to attend classes. Everyone else was talking with their parents about their class choices and housing contracts. Some were even asking the experts at the podium questions about the university. But this was way beyond me because I had more important things on my mind. I remember seeing him rise a few rows in front of me with his mother. I'm not sure exactly what caught my eye first, but his light brown hair and rosy complexion kept my stare. He had on a blue shirt that hung un-tucked from his khaki shorts, clothing that intrigued my eyes to follow him, as he squeezed through the metal chairs that someone had set up a little too close. He politely said, "Excuse me," and smiled with seemingly complete confidence. I nudged my mother, "Right there," I said signaling her to notice his strut. "Cute," she said shortly which translated to, "I guess I agree Whitney, but I don't look anymore." It was the usual answer I got when I asked for her opinion. I would sometimes badger her to elaborate, but the answer always lacked in enthusiasm. We watched him disappear behind a big red curtain that separated the students with and without name-tags, and I began formulating his life story. He looked like the I-played-a-few-sports-in-high-school type, pretty normal to me compared to all of the different types of people in the room. He wasn't preppy enough to be the guy that came to college for the sole reason of joining a fraternity, but nowhere close to being the guy that nobody wanted in a fraternity.