By: Maya Beninteso, Peak Associate and wannabe screenwriter
Once upon a group project, two unsuspecting psychology students were placed in a group, encountered the usual group tension and, surprisingly, love. Twas not a meeting that involved bumping into each other (cutely) in the maze we SFU’ers call the Academic Quad-struggle. No. Twas the sending of Tinder-esque flirty lines that, quite candidly, woo’d our beloved don’t-ask-what-year psychology student, Julie. Call it what you want, but this, my dear readers, is the story of the union of two souls. On Google Docs.
Julie: Hey!!! We should probably get started on the project. It’s due in five days lol.
Urie: Alright, alright. Fine. I just function better under pressure.
Julie: Well, actually that’s a lie your brain tells you to enable you to procrastinate. I’m sure you could come up with better quality work if you started working on it early.
Urie: You must have a LOT of friends.
Romero has entered the Doc
Romero: Hello fellow group members, what’s up?
Julie: Urie’s ego, apparently.
Romero: Let’s just finish the project and be done with this.
Romero’s assertiveness and drive to finish the project washed away the overwhelming symptoms of burnout. Julie could finally feel something again, beyond feeling like she should switch her major . . . for the third time.
Romero: What are we thinking in terms of topics?
Julie: What about Freud’s role in establishing psychoanalysis? Or what about —
Romero: That’s a great idea. Let’s go with that.
Urie: I think I’ve had enough for today. I’m going to bed.
Julie: But it’s 10:00 p.m. . . . And we’ve barely done anything!
Urie has left the Doc
Julie: How helpful. You would think I would be used to getting ghosted at this point.
Romero: Same.
Something about Romero’s Google Doc icon in the upper right-hand corner of her crusty, dying laptop’s screen made Julie nervous. It was almost . . . intimate. Like a notable amount of eye contact. Her breathing quivered as if she had climbed the fifty flights of stairs after getting off the 145 bus to SFU. She should probably do something about that (but she never will).
Julie: I’m going to be honest.
Romero: We’re psychology majors, this is a safe space.
Julie: Ah, already starting with the psychoanalyzing, I see.
Romero: Always.
Julie: This is the most intimacy I have felt in my 22 years of life.
Romero: There is something about being the only two people on a Google Doc, especially —
Romero proceeds to delete his last sentence.
Julie: Hey, why did you delete that?
Romero: No, no, forget it.
Julie: No, now I HAVE to know.
Romero: Fine. It’s just that it’s especially intimate when I’m in a Google Doc with the prettiest girl I have ever seen.
Julie is hyperventilating at this point, trying to wrap her brain around how this man even knows she exists. Was it in tutorial with her mousy bun and sweater? WOW. She had been perceived. A novelty, might she add, for SFU.
Romero: Unrelated, but have you seen a doctor lately?
Julie: Funny you mention that, I probably should. You see, when I walk up the stairs —
Romero: Because I think you’re in need of some Vitamin Me.
Julie: Has that ever worked for you?
Romero: I don’t know, you tell me.
Julie: Wooow. Okay, maybe a little.
Romero: I don’t have another pick-up line, but I can pick you up at 8:00 p.m. tomorrow.
Julie found herself blushing, swept off of her feet over a Google Doc conversation. Would this become known as the Google-Doc-deception-to-therapy pipeline? Julie had doubts, but she couldn’t help but feel he might be different. This project might be the project of her heart.
Julie: I’m a little hesitant.
Romero: I can’t promise you that we will love each other. I can’t promise you that neither of us will get hurt. But what’s a project to true love? I would love the privilege of your company for one dinner. That’s all. If you want nothing to do with me after this project, no hard feelings. We can go back to stolen glances in a crowded lecture hall. But what if this turns into something?
It could be our Google Doc love story, Julie, just say yes.
