Friday, May 20, 2011

Come. On.

                I don’t consider myself a particularly friendly person.  I try to avoid people for the most part because I suck as making small talk.  It is torturous when I see people trying to think of something to say to me in awkward situations like – waiting in line for something.  Or in an elevator – which thankfully I never have to take those because I’m super scared of them. Or unfortunately walking the same route as someone else to parking lot. And most recently I've been unable to dodge some conversations that have left me wondering 'is this real life?!' 

                At work as I’m doing my best to keep my eyes open and my head down so I can get coffee and water for my oatmeal packet without speaking to any humans because well – I am no morning person:

                Man:     “You’ve got that oatmeal measurement down huh?”
                Me:        “Yes.”

               Whhhat?  It is of no concern of yours what my preferred oatmeal to water ratio is.

                Next day – same person, second cup of coffee and therefore no more oatmeal:

   Man:     “Finished your oatmeal already?”
   Me:        “Yes.”

   Now it’s certainly no concern of yours what I ate for breakfast.  But thanks.

At work, as I was leaving, wearing my North Face over my dress - so I didn’t have to carry it:

                Man:     “You look like you’re dressed for summer from the waist down.”
                Me:        “Oh. Ha. My office is chilly.”
                Man:     “Too bad we can’t see the top of that dress.”
                Me:        “Oh.”

                  Awkwardddd.

                Leaving work a different day after I made the mistake of not wearing heels – which apparently is messing with everyone’s sense of morality or something?

                Man:     “It’s so weird not to see you in high heels.”
                Me:        “Oh. “
                Man:     “I mean I’m just so used to seeing you in heels.”
                Me:        “Ok.”
              Man:     (Who ruined my plan to park at an alternate door as to avoid continuing such thrilling conversations by also parking by that door)  Proceeds to tell me some story about a different girl that I don’t know, who almost fell down the stairs because she wears heels and something about Karma because he thinks she’s a B-word.
                Me:        (Grateful to finally be in the parking lot)  Have a good evening.

               Why is my footwear a matter of national security?! Sometimes I like to wear comfortable shoes.  Incidentally, those flats are less comfortable than my heels.  But whatev.

                So with that being said, I’m thinking I’m going to implement a high five policy.  I’m going to just high five people who say things to me that I don’t think they should be saying.  I don’t think you can leave someone hanging right?  They’ll have to high five me back.  And then the next time they want to try and think of something to say to me they’ll remember that I’m the girl who high fived them and they prob won’t know why I did that and maybe that won’t want to roll the dice on that happening again and they’ll slow they’re roll and take the hallway at a more staggered pace as to avoid having to come up with something brilliant to say to me?  Thoughts?

                Concerns.  I’m slightly OCD and high fiving people constantly would force me to have to up the hand washing count - which is already pretty high.  I can’t handle any more antibacterial gel – my hands see enough of that when I go places and touch door handles, use shopping carts, pump gas, sign credit card slips with the same pen the whole entire world uses or go to the ATM.  Pretty much after I touch things any other person else might have touched before me.  I don’t trust that people didn’t choose to wash their germy hands with body wash rather than anti-bacterial hand soap after using the restroom resulting in pomegranate scented germs being transferred to the door handles. 

 I’m thinking I’ll need to use the fist pound instead.  Less personal contact.  To be determined whether or not I’ll incorporate the explosion.  But seriously, if people feel like they need to talk to me – they do not.  And if you feel like you need to get me to ask you a question by sighing loudly to initiate the conversation – I will not.  I will, however, stop resisting the urge to congratulate you for being such an awesome conversationalist.  



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