I had been texting and Snapchatting a girl from back home for months, on and off, before she was finally free- she invited me over to her house to watch a movie. Now, I knew she had a boyfriend. She knew she had a boyfriend. She told me as much over text a few times. But despite all this, there she was, leaning her head on my shoulder five minutes into the movie. Hans Gruber hadn’t even taken over Nakatomi Plaza by the time her bra came off. We had our fun, the movie ended, and I made my way to the nearest subway stop grinning ear to ear.

But, my dear friends, I’m sure you already know how this one goes. The night of, she texted me to make sure I got home safe, and we were making plans for our next ‘movie.’ The next day, she wasn’t sure she should’ve done that, but her schedule was looking pretty clear the next time I had a weekend off. Two days later? It was all my fault, I should have known she had a boyfriend, I was the bad guy. Nothing new. In close proximity, though, none of that had mattered. I got what I wanted from her, on the first try in person, when months of doing it the “new way” got me nowhere.

When you’re a college freshman in 2019, every communication is on iMessage, GroupMe, Snapchat, or Instagram. Maybe an e-mail if shit has gotten really serious. Sit back and think about that- it’s fucking weird, right? This is the only time in your life that everyone you deal with, socially and professionally, lives within a 5-minute walk, maybe even in the same building, and you just fire off a Snap and hope someone responds? But that’s just how it is... but when have we ever just accepted “how it is?”

A month or so into the school year, I decided to start doing shit in person. I was sick and tired of sending out group texts and silently begging for results, so one day, I just started knocking on doors. I needed signatures for an event on our floor- with enough of these, the school would pay for some shitty pizza (don’t judge- it’s free food and we’re broke). Knocking on doors, chatting with my next-door neighbors, and even making the occasional sales pitch, I got enough signatures in one night- more than the meager three people who’d signed up because of group chats or Instagram DMs. I got the signatures, we got the pizza, I got the recognition, and it warmed my little introverted heart.

Now, I’m no psychologist, I can’t explain what it is about looking someone in the eye and making connections that works so goddamn well. But it’s a little tidbit of what was common sense to our forefathers, but in the utterly weird world we live in today, it’s lost on the generation that would rather Tweet than talk. You can’t bed a girl with a selfie, you can’t earn your boss or instructor’s respect with an e-mail, and you can’t get what you want from life by texting someone for it.

You need to look them in the eye, shake their hand, and make it known- “This is what I’m doing with my life. It’s fucking great. You in?”