Quinn literally came into my life as a welcomed distraction. Kind of.
But that’s how Quinn became my friend.
I didn’t know what to expect when a mutual friend reached out and said Quinn was looking for a place to live at USC. We had only had a couple, fleeting interactions in high school.
It could have been Pandora’s Box for all I knew.
And it was definitely Pandora’s Box – just not in the way I expected.
Quinn has been terrible for my productivity in the best possible ways.
He has this incredible ability to talk to anyone – regardless of who they are, what they look like, or their walk of life – and he has a presence, too. Perhaps his edge is his talkative nature, but I don’t think being talkative is enough. There’s something else there. A charm, a charisma, I’m still not sure, but Quinn is unlike anyone I have ever seen in this arena.
I’m not easily impressed, but I’m impressed by Quinn. You should be impressed by him.
Because here’s the thing, transferring to a new school, being thrown into a house with only one kind-of connection, and trying to navigate the social scene all at the same time is a near-impossible task.
But impossibly, Quinn hit the ground running, and the process has appeared seamless.
For as much as he says he doesn’t know what he’s doing, he does. Quinn consciously takes real, tangible steps toward his goals, even if his definition of success isn’t quite formed yet. The path is not clear but at least the steps are.
He networks, he works to excel in classes, he makes friends anywhere, he knows professors, he joins clubs, he tries new things, he isn’t afraid to fail – nearly anything you could say someone needs to do in order to give themselves the best shot possible, Quinn is doing.
And it helps that he’s kind. Enormously kind. Helpful. Eager. Usually warm. Generous and selfless when he can be, and that’s the difference. He knows when to draw the line to take care of himself, too.
He is thoughtful and inquisitive. We have endless conversations about life and our goals and the human condition, even. I live for that shit, and Quinn knows it. He’ll barge into my room when I’m trying to actually get things done, and we’ll try to work for awhile before we start talking and all of a sudden it’s been three hours and it’s 2am.
But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I cherish his friendship and the value Quinn adds to my life.
Quinn is always challenging me to rethink how I approach things and how I view the world. He challenges me to work harder but to also welcome distractions, too.
And for that, I am thankful. He’s saved my ass a few times too, and if that isn’t a hallmark of friendship, I dunno what is.
He has a habit of leaving his shit in my room, though.