His name was Marcus. I was in my first year of college when I met him. He seemed nice enough. And for once, I had met a guy that was on the same level as I was intellectually. I didn’t have to listen to him drone on about football and boobs. Instead we talked about Kierkerguard and politics, things of that nature. Plus, he had the same dry, sarcastic, above-most-people’s-heads sense of humor as I. He seemed perfect in most, if not all aspects.
We dated for a few weeks, nothing serious. Mostly just hanging out and getting to know eachother a little more. Then one day, we were sitting talking with a few friends down in the basement of our common building on campus, when Marcus and I found ourselves talking about family. I mentioned that I had a cousin that worked at the college we attended that I had never met. He found this odd, yet hilarious. But, unfortunately, the hilarity of the situation quickly ceased as I mentioned this cousin’s name. Marcus’ jaw dropped, and after overcoming the momentary shock, Marcus informed me that he, too, had a cousin by the same name, and that, also, worked at our college.I don’t think I had ever dialed my mother’s phone number faster, and after a brief conversation with her about our family tree, I was surprised to find out that Marcus was not only my cousin, but my 3rd, BLOOD cousin, and that we, in fact, shared the same Great, Great Grandmother. Now, of course, we promptly stopped dating, but it was too late, and we became the laughing stock of our friends, and pretty much the entire university. And, unfortunately, it didn’t stay within the confines of our school, but spread to everyone we knew in the city of Bethany. To this day, I have people ask me if I’m dating anyone, and upon responding “no,” they prod, “What? Did ya run out of cousins? I thought I had found the perfect guy, but sadly, our similarities could probably just be blamed on genetics. I should require a drawn out family tree and a blood test from all of my future flings, just to be safe, but I have a feeling that would only result in a countless number of Friday nights spent alone…
-Charity Shipley
