Earlier this evening, having dinner with an about-to-be-wed friend, I repeated a scene that’s become distressingly common over the last twelve months:

Her: You know, back in high school, I totally had a crush on you.
Me: Wait, really? In high school I totally had a crush on you.

I mean, what the hell, fifteen-year old me? How were you so entirely clueless? How did you possibly drop the ball on so many prime booty opportunities?