The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Posts tagged ‘Awkward’

Weekly Wacko (29)

Kids These Days!

Note: This happened in California, and I wrote this while still living in California.

One day after work I decided I didn’t want to make any food. This is common enough. I also didn’t want to drive, so that limited me to one of the few fast food places within easy walking distance.

I left my apartment and was still on the street in my neighborhood. I live in a small apartment complex and am mostly surrounded by houses. This makes it feel more like the neighborhoods I’m used to, which is nice.

Three middle school-aged girls were walking in my direction. I was on the phone, calling my sister (she and I both will call each other to help kill time while walking somewhere or driving somewhere – though I do it much more often than she does. Sorry E$).

While passing me one of the girls yelled, “you’re cute!”

I thought this was pretty funny. Ah, to be young and loud and whatever else they are.

Unexpectedly, I heard a slight noise behind me and then –

SLAP!

One of the girls had doubled back, run up behind me and took it upon herself to slap me on the rear end. The old tuchus. After doing this she began to run away while the other girls giggled like hyenas. She yelled, while still running away, “I like your butt!”

Around that time my sister answer and tried to figure out why I was at the same time scared, amused, and more flattered than I’d care to admit.

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Weekly Wacko (22)

One Part Blind, One Part Awkward

I just went to check my mail, where I had a lovely letter from Whitney. On the way to the mailbox I saw a woman waving frantically at me. I found it odd and was about to respond when I looked closer and saw she was waving at a baby. That made a lot more sense.

My favorite time of mistaking someone waving at me was in college.

The weather was beautiful out, so I went to the student union center and got my favorite thing there – the chicken ceaser wrap from Chick-Fil-A. Man those things are good.  I also bought a milk and a Twix bar. Combine that with sitting outside, my headphones and spacing out and you’ve got a little slice of Heaven.

I’m about done with my delicious meal when I notice a girl calling at me in a very chipper tone. I had taken off my glasses and put them in a case in my pocket, so I don’t take them out first.

I’m wondering who this girl is – usually I can recognize friends by their voices, and why on earth would someone be so chipper and happy while calling out at me? Sure, I can be nice to talk to, but not that nice to talk to.

I don’t think much of it and start walking toward while squinting.

(A good friend of mine, Brittany, loved making fun of me for this. She would see me without glasses and yell “HI BRAD!” so then I’d squint like crazy while walking toward her to make sure it was Brittany. She’d walk toward me and mockingly squint at me while cracking up. Brittany’s a funny gal.)

At some point I realize the girl was looking not at me, but in my general direction. I am about five feet from her when I notice this – and it wasn’t like I could’ve been walking to her, or some other place. There was nothing around her, I was bee-lining to her.

Uh oh.

I turn around and good God I’m a moron she was trying to get a stray cat’s attention. That’s why the chipper tone.

It was a cat call, literally.

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Weekly Wacko (20)

Adventures in Studly-ness!

Recently, for the first time I went to a bar and got a girls number. And I did it with jazz hands.

I work with a group of guys who are around my age and have also just started here. This has provided us with good reason to chat at work, and we grab lunch once a week or so.

On February 5th we decided to paint the town red. Another co-worker recommended we go to a bar in downtown Houston – Rocbar. Girls who work there dress in a lovely way (read: slutty), and they have, apparently, rock music.

The three other new guys came over and we played XBOX and three of us had two beers a piece. Then we piled into a car and picked up the fifth guy (the bar recommendation guy). The five of us, piled into a sedan, were ready for an adventure.

Before we had left my apartment I used the bathroom because when I drink any liquid I get a mean case of what doctors call ‘grandpa bladder.’ It’s a burden I bear.

The bar was maybe 35 minutes away and oh my Lord you’ve got to be kidding I have to pee again. I make a comment. The driver, D, looks at me in a – ‘you’re f-ing kidding me?’ way. I’m afraid not.

In my defense we drove from my apartment to get the fifth guy, so really it’d been a good 40 minutes since I’d last peed. That’s some bladder!

*

Once at the bar we started drinking. Gulp, gulp, gulp, down goes the liquid confidence.

We went to an outside patio type area and they had big swings, like you’d have on a big front porch. I sat down and start swinging around side-to-side, because that’s fun. I got the feeling I was ‘cramping the fellas style’ so I calmed down my five year old desire to play on a swing set.

Eventually two of the five guys went off and started chatting with girls. What a concept. Myself and the remaining two stood around, talked, and did laps around the bar like it was a middle school dance (‘hahahha! oh man look J’s talking with that girl!!! Duuuude, I wonder if he’ll get her number!!!’).

The two guys would re-join us periodically and we’d talk nonsense.

*

The liquid confidence finally entered my bloodstream and my mind went from ‘well she’s very pretty and aw shucks’ to ‘ehhh why not.’ Yeah, that’s right, the charm was on full blast.

I walked up to a group of girls and basically shouted at them (I’d been drinking, it was loud in the bar, but still I feel a bit awkward about my starting this conversation by yelling in their faces). I told them I was new to Houston, I’d just moved there, and what’s the best place to eat. I said this because it was true, and I love a good place to eat.

They weren’t having it. One of the girls semi-answered me so I looped around to hear her better. She told me a boring chain restaurant recommendation (seriously, that’s boring). I could tell they weren’t enjoying me, so I moved on.

Surprisingly, I didn’t care at all.

*

I headed outside and sat down on a swing, talking to two of my friends. I noticed that across the patio a girl was sitting on a swing, doing basically what I’d been doing when I first sat down. That was all the green light I needed.

(I actually met up with the girl one time, and since then nada – so this story comes from her since I was too boozy to remember. And I’m writing this now because had I written it when she and I were still talking, I would’ve felt like this was a bit odd. I don’t know dating etiquette, but I feel like blogging about a girl you’ve just met is not kosher.)

Apparently, I walked up, hands spread out like I’m semi going for a hug, semi doing jazz hands. I said ‘hey!!!’ very happily and then bam started talking. I didn’t introduce myself. I told her I’d just moved to Houston and what’s the best part about Houston. It turned out she was from northern California (where I’d moved from).

Within five minutes of meeting her I told her about my grandpa bladder.

I also talked to her about my job (which is probably fairly boring to most people).

All in all, I was a real charmer.

I ended the conversation by telling her that my grandpa bladder was acting up, and a fella’s gotta do what a fella’s gotta do. I said let me give you my number, she said no let me give you my number. Tricky.

*

Wish me luck tomorrow night. Hopefully there will be less jazz hands.

I mean, really – who starts a conversation with jazz hands?

Copyright 2010 Brad Stanley

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