If you’ve got a special someone this V-day, then today is all about love. If not, then why not make today about taking chances and loving yourself for it? For inspiration, here’s one bandit’s story about how she found her groove this season. Enjoy! And happy V-day from all of us at CityBandit….

BY KRISTINA PARTSINEVELOS

Tension was in the air, as students buried themselves in stacks of books or furiously typed away at the library’s computers in preparation for midterms.  But I spent my precious study time mustering up the courage to give my phone number to a guy.

Of course, I’m the one who gets easily distracted by the creaking of doors, the ding of iPhones and the shuffle of heavy winter boots.  Luckily this time around, when I lifted my head, I saw an attractive student sit down at the computer next to me.  I might have been stuck on the first line of my twenty-page paper, but my situation sure seemed a whole lot brighter.

Between my not-so-discreet side glances, I racked my brain for genius ways to talk to this handsome brown-haired figure.   My winning solution: ask him to watch my laptop while I go to the washroom.

Unfortunately, that didn’t work.  He agreed to watch my belongings but when I came back to say thanks, he just nodded.

My inner voices debated.  Maybe he wasn’t interested.  But I was convinced I saw him look over a few times.   On the other hand, his glances could have been in reaction to my own behaviour – subtlety is not my strongest suit.

I texted two friends and asked their advice on how to get this guy to talk to me.

One friend, seemingly more traditional, wrote, “Forget it girl.  If he hasn’t talked to you already, he’s not worth it.”

By contrast, another friend reminded me times have changed and women can make the first move.  She suggested I talk to him.

I’m the type to use the railing to get into a cold pool rather than plunge head first so I settled with writing a note.

I could already feel the blood rushing to my face as I realized that I was going to give a guy my phone number for the first time. Now that I was a grad student without a boyfriend, did this mean that I was resorting to desperate measures?

Like many females, I prefer it when a male talks to me first, either out of fear of rejection, looking too eager or just being plain old shy.  But this day was going to be different.  I was going to make the first move.

“I trusted you with my laptop; maybe I can trust you with my number. If not, isn’t flattery great?” I signed my name and number with a smiley face.

As he got up to leave, I pushed the paper across the desk to only watch it fall to the floor in slow motion.

I couldn’t believe that my carefully crafted plan was failing so miserably right before my eyes.  My crush bent down to pick up the paper and handed it back to me.

“No it’s for you,” I said with a face so flushed I must have looked like I just spent a week in the Caribbean.

To make the situation worse, he proceeded to read the note right in front of me.

“You don’t have to read it here,” I said, probably a little too loud.  I was ready to make a dash for the door.

He walked away with the note in hand and I could not have been more embarrassed.

Clearly, I wasn’t as suave as I thought I was.  Thirty minutes passed and my cell phone remained silent.

Surprisingly, I couldn’t stop smiling.  I had done it – I had given my number to a guy in a library, of all places.  I didn’t care if he called me back, I was just happy I had the guts to step out of my comfort zone.

With my new found bravery in the back of my mind, I dived into my essay with the hopes of writing past my first paragraph.

It was only once I was in the privacy of my apartment, that I dared to look at my phone.

I had a new message.

“It’s the guy from the library. Thank you, I am flattered.  I wanted you to know that it has nothing to do with you, but I have a girlfriend.  Happy to watch your stuff. Good luck studying!”

I was pleased.  Maybe I didn’t get the guy, but at least now I know I don’t have to wait idly for Prince Charming to come knocking on my door.

I’ll probably head to the library this weekend.

Ottawa, Ottawa: Lifestyle