The Boy and the Barista

Hey everyone! Ever since I started this blog about the awkward life that follows me around, I've always wondered how awkward it is for the guy's on the other side of the awkward. I mean, when opera boy asked me out (sorry- that one can't go up online, opera boy follows this) I'm sure it was even more awkward for him than for me. Well, I've been fortunate to have my new friend Ben (Winston) tell us a time about his awkward moments with a girl! Ben has a blog that he posts poetry stuffs that he writes here: http://analogbananalog.wordpress.com/ .

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As a male in today’s version of American culture, I find myself burdened with the responsibility
of making my wants and needs known to the women I take an interest in. Though it is possible for the
reverse to happen (that is, for the female to initiate this dreadful exchange), the world is cold and cruel
and I have reached the point where I must take matters into my own hands.

My first foray into exercising this responsibility goes as such: I’m lying on a lumpy motel bed
thousands of miles from home at the Yellowstone Valley Inn in the miniscule town of Wapiti, Wyoming
and realize that no matter how much I think about this one particular lady (let’s call her Beatrix, for the
sake of anonymity), nothing will ever happen between her and I unless I take initiative. Though the
realization came easily, I understood the gall would not, and the days following were spent
contemplating my moves (or lack thereof) at a safe distance from reality, preparing myself to touch
down in Philadelphia and swoop into Bea’s life.

The confidence I had stockpiled in the West quickly evaporated when I walked into her
workplace (a particular Seattle-based coffee shop you may or may not have heard of) and saw her there,
grinding beans and frothing milk and whatnot. She smiled at me, and I had forgotten how lovely a smile
she had, and my mouth went all blah blah and my brain came mushy and there was no way I was going
to be macho or cool or whatever it is I’m supposed to be that’s attractive to the fairer sex. I kept as level
a head as possible and busted out of the shop before I could say something stupid.

See, during the impossibly long minutes (hours?) between ordering my costly poison and
receiving it we did chit-chat, and not just non-conversation like “Gee whiz, it’s a hot one!” (though I’ve
totally used that line before). She asked me about my trip, and I asked her about her week, and we
generally had a nice conversation. I put on the whole flirty/charming bit as best as I know how. Things,
you could say, were going well.

But I needed to refuel my confidence and charisma, so I asked for advice from a variety of
characters. All the input was appreciated, though a lot of it seemed to require too much confidence.
How was I supposed to find extra when I could barely muster up a reasonable amount? The bit of advice
I liked the most, and the one I ultimately decided to go with, was this: don’t ask Bea for her number,
give her yours.

*Pause for effect*

Yes, I know, I also thought it was brilliant, quite nearly too brilliant. It had the required bit of me
making the first move, but still left the choice of whether or not I was charming/cool/foxy enough to
warrant a call in her hands, no pressure. Perfect.

So the day finally arrived in which I put this plan into action. (Tangent: I decided I was going to
do this on a Tuesday afternoon, and though I went to the coffee shop more times than any human
should that week, I didn’t see her again until Thursday morning). I wrote my phone number on the back
of one of my non-business-y business cards, which have just my name, my personal email address, and
my Twitter handle (Did I honestly pay money for these? Curse you, VistaPrint!). Then I went inside,
anxious and excited to finally make my move, and there were about one hundred and fifty people in line

and everyone on Trixie’s side of the counter looked like they were about to freak out and start throwing
things.

When I took my spot as number 151, a little voice crept up behind me and whispered in my ear:

“Hey Ben, it’s real busy. Like, reeeeal busy. How about you don’t ruin her day today, as the
hundred and fifty people ahead of you probably have it covered.”

Despite his casual and slightly sarcastic tone, my conscious can be quite convincing. However,
on this fateful day I was prepared.

“Listen, Ben, don’t you wimp out now. You decided you were going to do this, now do it,
dammit.”

So I inched my way up the long line, thumbing the corner of the card and telling my stomach
how awesome it would be if it didn’t decide to throw up right now, thanks very much. The front of the
line grew closer, and when I was nearly there she caught my eye and smiled hello. I tell you, nothing in
the world (save a swift kick in the nuts) can take the breath out of you as fast as a smile from a pretty
lady. It was like her stress had completely melted away in that one moment our eyes met. Other
vomitrocious and flowery thoughts ran through my head, the romantic sap I am, but I’ll spare the
reader. Just know it was kind of a big deal.

But, big deal or not, it wasn’t exactly a move (smiling doesn’t count; I’ve checked and
rechecked). I crested the line to whichever green-aproned chump happened to be running register at
the moment, my brain off in la-la land and my mouth absently placing my drink order. From here I was
free, and all of a sudden a plan was laid before my eyes as if by miracle: during our usual parting
exchange, in which she hands me my drink and I accept it graciously and I leave her with a witty and/or
charming comment (anything to put a smile on her face, really), I’ll hand her the digits and say
something smooth like, “Hey, I’d really like to see you sometime outside of here. If that sounds like
something you’d be at all interested in, gimme a call.” Then I’d saunter away from the counter and out
the smudged glass doors into the bright morning, slowly slipping on those cool sunglasses that I totally
don’t own but have in this fantasy for some reason while some intense music played behind me.

It was perfect, and in no way was it ever going to go that well.

Here’s how it did go: she met my eyes as she was about to hand me my drink, as per usual. I
straightened my shirt or cleared my throat or something like that (my mind wasn’t exactly doing its
normal “observe everything” routine), and she handed out the drink. I thanked her, and as I was about
to spit out my Oscar-worthy line…nothing. She quickly turned back to her magic grind-y box machine
(why don’t I know how coffee works?) and began the putzing and futzing of preparing whomever-was-
behind-me’s drink. My heart sank, my puffed-out chest deflated, and I turned towards the door to leave
the establishment with a missed chance.

“Dude, no,” my firmer conscience told me (the one who wasn’t mocking me: “Way to go,
dumbass!”). “You’re not going anywhere. You got this far, you decided you were going to do this, and if
you don’t do this now you will never do it.”

I usually do everything I can to ignore this go-getter jerk who bounces around inside my head;
whenever I take his advice, it gets me into trouble. The nay-sayer I can get behind. He keeps everything
as safe and predictable as possible, leaving me relatively unscarred. He’s also left me with a library filled
with missed opportunities, though, and I decided I wasn’t ready to add this situation or this girl to that
library.

So I turned around to try again. In my oblivious state (I blame you, Trixter!), I failed to notice the
line I had waded through had been refilled with another one hundred fifty miserably caffeine-withdrew
individuals, and the poor overworked employees were looking as murderous as ever. Bea was madly
clink-clanking levers and slap-fwapping metal milk cups, and twisty whir KA-CHUNK and some brownish
blech burped out and the the whole process itself was mesmerizing and alien. I watched a couple add
themselves to the end of the line as the rest of the patrons stood stagnant, and I knew I’d better forget
the plan and try again later.

“Bro. Brooooo.” I so hate my conscience. “Hear me out, bro. She’s gonna get a break. Like,
between drinks, she has that little peaceful moment where she takes a deep breath and calms down
and ponders why the hell she decided to work this morning. You know that moment? You could totally
shatter that moment.”

He did have a point, I thought (stupidly). I couldn’t exactly try and talk to her while she’s making
some stranger’s drink; barring the terrible fool I would feel, I might mess up her flow and cause her to
ruin said stranger’s drink (which I’ve totally done before; the barista gets all embarrassed, I feel all bad,
and the stranger is hopefully (and usually) too self-absorbed to realize other people exist). But I did
notice the moment, though brief, between handing off a completed drink and grabbing the next cup’s
order. I thought it was possible to break into that moment, I just had to pick the right one.

So I sat down and waited.

Now, right away there are several problems with this. One, I’m not exactly a stranger to Bea
(or to any other employee at the coffee shop, for that matter), so she knows that when I come in on
a weekday morning I’m on my way to work, and nine times out of ten I’m already late. So when I sat
down, she immediately knew strange happenings were afoot. Now, you’re probably thinking “Ben, you
couldn’t possibly know if she was thinking that,” which brings me nicely to point two, which is where
I sat in the establishment. Was it off at a table in the corner? Nope. How about on one of those nice
leather chairs by the windows? Nuh uh. Or at the bar thing, but like, all the way at the other end, away
from where Bea was concocting potions? Please. In lieu of all those great choices, I picked a bar stool
real close to the drink pick-up counter where she was maybe ten feet away and waited there, trying to
sip my mocha nonchalantly. I know for sure she knew something was up because we were in plain view
of each other, and in searching for the right moment I studied her whiz-bang moves at the coffee box
very, very obviously.

We made eye contact several dozen times, and though she smiled at me each time, her eyes
and body language gave off a clear “something wicked this way comes” vibe, and did for the entire
fifteen minutes I sat and stared and waited for my moment.

Fifteen minutes. It goes by quickly when it’s most of an episode of How I Met Your Mother, but
sitting there it was an eternity as painful as the slow tug of a Band-Aid. I sat on the edge of the stool
sweating through my work clothes, completely frozen in anxiety and suffocating in the situation I’d
created. She knew something was amiss, and how could she not? I reeked of social inaptitude.

Finally, the moment arrived when I was going to slip in and give her the card. Fifteen minutes
was plenty of time to gather my thoughts and make everything awkward (about fourteen minutes and
forty-five seconds too long, in fact). I stood up from the stool as someone took the drink she called out
from behind the counter, and she saw me, smiled and said “Have a nice day!”

Was she telling me to leave, pleading me not to do whatever it was she thought I was going to
do (or try to, as the case were)? I wasn’t sure at the time, and I’m still not, but like hell I was leaving so I
walked up to the counter and called her over.

She looked at me quizzically, her big eyes tired from a terrible shift. I put my card on the
counter, and words came out of my mouth. It wasn’t quite a sentence, and it probably wasn’t even
English. It went something like this: “Hey, I’d like to see you not here, so yeah, here’s this…” and I trailed
off from mumbling into nonsense. Her eyes grew even larger, a look that toed the line between surprise
and horrified creep-outedness. She clearly didn’t know what to say, and I so badly wanted to just run
screaming out of the coffee shop as if it were on fire. My limbs shook and my stomach did backflips and
my eyes swum around in their sockets and I thought I might die before she finally said: “Uh, okay…have
a nice day!”

With that I walked out of the shop trying to look cool, which I found quite difficult since I had
completely lost control of my body. My knees shook and threatened to give out, my arms felt as light
as air and I thought I might drop my coffee onto the floor where it would explode all over a significant
number of the soulless patrons in the impossibly long line, a reality I wouldn’t mind because any scene I
could cause would be better than the personal, intimate revelation of stupid feelings to a near-stranger
that spun through my mind endlessly like an angry hamster.

But the coffee didn’t drop, and those in line stayed dry, and I sped out the glass doors leaving
Bea to contemplate my awkward scene, my blabbering words, and me most of all. I made it across the
parking lot and into my car, and managed to get the door shut and the radio up loud enough to hurt
before I started screaming.

My Awkward Life Is a Musical

Tonight I had Engineers without Borders which meets in the engineering building on Drexel's campus. This building is tricky to find because you have to go through this other fancy cathedral/bank-esque building first to get to the engineering one and then once in the engineering building you have to wind through this maze to find the room. Last time, Taylor led me through it with Mike so we found it successfully with no harm done but he wasn't there this week. I had to find it all by myself. (Note- Mike and I had gotten fairly lost on our way OUT of the building last time when Taylor had already left.)

I was going to do the exact same thing that I did last time. Walk down Chestnut 'til I got to the fancy building, go in, find the weird hall and follow it. 

I go up to the door and open it to the fancy main building. I open the door and then next thing I know I am staring face-to-faces of a 200+person choir singing opera in the middle of the room/wrapping up the fancy double staircase. In my way.

So what do I do in reaction to having 200 people stare at me and block my way? I cower and hide.

I ducked behind a pillar while they continued to sing because I was so very incredibly confused. I mean, seriously, where do you just "find" a choir practicing in the middle of your path? I hid trying to see if I was walking in on a graduation or a wedding proposal or something but it really just seemed like it was a rehearsal. After a few minutes, I realized that I had no idea how I was able to get around them without them noticing that I had tried to hide for a few minutes. So now I had to hide even longer trying to figure out how to be calm and collected.Then I realized that some people (clearly enginerds) were walking by so I took a deep breath and came out from behind the pillar. That's when I realized a security guard had been watching me the whole time and was laughing at me.

I picked my head up and tried to pretend I was a strong, confident lady who knew where I was going in this building. But I still couldn't go the way we went last time- so I went through the only open hall in that foyer that I could go. Thank the Lord for college tours because they had lots of signs posted and luckily my intuition that I have developed from being living in engineering buildings helped guide me through the maze. I came out to the room I needed (via the opposite direction) and entered a room where no one else had seen the massive choir in the main building's foyer.

And such is my life. A walking musical awkward encounter that no one else ever experiences.

The Terrifying and Awkward 5 Second Event on my Birthday

Yesterday was my birthday. Now I don't celebrate my birthday very hardcore because that attention is awkward and it's almost always during Lent when I'm restricted in my eating and activities. But it wouldn't be a Cara Watson Birthday without some sort of awkward or terrifying moment.

Last night I had 3 friends over to watch Saturday Morning cartoons and eat cereal and 90s breakfast foods to celebrate my aging. My friends were late. So I had unlocked my front door so when they came they could just let themselves in instead of me having to run across my apartment. Well, at around 7:20 I hear my front door open. Thinking it was my coworker/bestest-friend-ever Mikey Campbell, I started moving forward towards my door to tease, "so you think you can just let yourself in automatically now, eh?"

When I turned the corner to my stairs who I saw was not my coworker/bestest-friend-ever. It was in fact, a very large stranger wearing "gangsta" clothing (for lack of a better description) about to climb up my front stairs in my apartment.

Before I had any time to react and tell him to get out, he shouted, "I'M SO DRUNK!" and then his friend pulled him by the back of his shirt out of my apartment shutting the door muttering something like he was a moron.

After that happened, I pulled my phone out and grabbed a broom in my efforts in case it happened again. My plan in case stuff like that happens is to shoo them out and if that doesn't work to scream for my shirtless neighbor. He would come running to rescue me, I'm sure of it.

The men hung around for a few more minutes because they were waiting for the bus (the bus stop is next to the deli on the other side- hence why they were waiting near my door). But they didn't cause any other trouble which is good, I think.

Valentine's Day Mail

I used to hate Valentine's Day- mainly because I'm forever single on this day and therefore it never seemed any different except that all coupled-up friends disappeared that day. Now I don't seem to mind it. It's that holiday where you can make everyone in your life feel special without them really expecting it. I feel like us single people should take more advantage of it. Next year, I'm buying my 70 yr old parents Chia pets.

The only thing I recieved for Valentine's day was some roses from my mother (bc our paths didn't cross since New Year's) and this:

It's a 2012 calendar but he ripped out January and put a heart sticker next to his name. And by 'he' this came from my real estate agent that helped me find my apartment back in August. The envelope had 2 'love' stickers on it and a cupid stamp to seal the back of the envelope. I want to think of it as a very belated New year's card but the heart throws me off for assuming that. 

Somehow I don't think this is his normal mail that he sends out to his former clients. At least, I sure hope it's not because I'm sufficiently weirded out by it. 

So yea, it was another normal, low-key Valentine's Day for me. Happy Belated Valentine's Day and Happy President's Day!

Becoming a Boring Single Lady

I am so sorry, everyone, that there hasn't been any interesting stories lately. I'd like to say that my interactions have been less awkward or that I've stopped attracting really strange people. However, if I say that, I'm pretty sure that's a lie. The reason that my life has been so silent lately has been, well, because I've been boring lately.

Since moving to a new place alone, I haven't given much effort for awkward, or any, opportunities to arise. I've mainly been working, going home to see family or laying low. I think I'm still in this state of transition where I'm trying to figure out how to have a life outside of school and what to do. [Also, I'm now a single girl living on her own with no guy friends close by to hide behind- I'm trying so hard not to attract any creepers here.]

Ever since graduating, there has been growing pressure from friends, family and society for me to stop being single. It appears to be that if you are not taking classes anymore, then you shouldn't be single. Or at least if you are single, you should be seeing many guys in hopes of a relationship. Or you should be partying every night. If you aren't doing those things, apparently you are becoming boring and getting closer to being a crazy cat-harboring old maid and people start rudely asking you about it.

I'm not the only one feeling these pressures. I have many friends feeling the pressure of balancing work with family and friends and relationships. Because of this, we are now sharing with each other the ridiculous things that make us feel so awkward or embarrassed. It's hard being single, young and working. To demonstrate, I am now going to list a few of the conversations, phrases, or things we say or that happen to us in this new life  just to give you a snapshot. Clearly, many of these have intricate stories behind them.  But I can't tell you all of these stories so I'll leave you to use your imagination to fill in the blanks.

(Note: Anything that isn't from me or about me, I'm keeping anonymous so my friends won't hurt me.)
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"I went to Happy Hour that evening so does it erase the fact that I went to bed at 8:30 on Friday night?"

"Why are you calling me "miss"? I'm probably only like 4 years older than you. I'm not old yet. Call me by just my name with no "miss" in front of it." (To the cashier at Best Buy. He called me Miss Cara 3 times during check out.)

"Found your car!"

My grandmother: "Well, have you gotten any rings yet from any gentlemen for Christmas? It doesn't matter who, I wouldn't have met him so I wouldn't care who."

My cousin shouted across 20 of our relatives at the dinner table to ask about my 'boyfriend' because he thinks it's funny that I still don't have one. His question literally silenced the entire table while they waited for my response.

After asking a cashier if he took Visa he replied, "I'll take cash, credit or your firstborn child, honey."

"Of course I never like the nice guy. He told me he's never laughed so hard in his life as on our date. But it was so boring and I don't remember laughing!"

"He made me a birthday cake for my party. Even though I didn't invite him."

"I just ate 3 meals. In one sitting." (coping mechanism) "You are a champ."

"The guy who sold me my car called me about something and my pocket answered him and he heard me singing at the top of my lungs to Jet's "Cold Hard Bitch" awkwarddddd" "You were listening to 104.5, weren't you?" "YES! Thank youuuu!"

"I'm too old for mosh pits"

"I volunteered to switch out the bug traps in 185 rooms to avoid 2 boys. That's how bad it is."

"You know it's bad when 'dressing to go out' means you are going to the grocery store."

"For the first time ever, I just chopped off my hair in response to work and not a boy. Work is now becoming my boyfriend. Help."

This reminds me that I need to talk about my Shirtless Neighbor at some point with ya'll.

Turning into a Lunatic

This post is 100% true and it may be about me or it may be about someone else. That's all you're getting out of me.

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I am very awkward and uncomfortable when it comes to being really honest in relationships.  So, naturally, I avoid these sorts of situations.  However, every once in a while there arises a time when an uncomfortable conversation needs to be had and it is simply unavoidable.  This is the story of one of those conversations.  Sort of.  Really it’s a story about how the necessity of this particular conversation caused me to have a momentary mental breakdown and turn into a lunatic.  And I am not embellishing here, this all really happened. I actually did this.

Ok, so here is what happened.  I went over to hang out with a friend of mine—yes, a friend of the opposite gender—with the intention of maybe hopefully having a somewhat productive conversation about what the heck is going on between us. You know, one of those “sooooo what are we?” conversations that are awkward, but necessary once a friendship between a guy and a girl gets to a certain point.  Like I said, this is the sort of conversation I avoid like the plague or watching baseball on tv but it’s a conversation that needs to be had and I am attempting to be bolder, more mature, and more honest in my relationships which means asking for clarity.

So having this conversation would be very good. Unfortunately good intentions do not automatically translate to good (or smooth) actions.  I didn’t even have an ounce of courage to bring this up when  I was at his house, so when I left I was slightly disappointed in myself.  I walked all the way out to my car, which was parked on the street, got in, shut the door, and the rest is a blur. 

It was at this moment that something happened.  Someone took over my body and turned me into a crazy person.  It was in this moment of disappointment and frustration at not knowing what is going on in the boy’s head that I did this act of insanity.  I got back out of my car, ran back across his yard (yes I literally ran), and went back into his house.  I didn’t even knock on the door.  I literally ran up his front step and threw open the door.  Then I ran down the stairs to the basement and down his creepy hallway to his room, where I met his closed door which I then pounded on rather loudly.  At least I remembered to knock this time, right?  After waiting for a response from the other side of the door, which is what a sane person would do, I opened the door to his room and said, “hey, I’m back!  Ummm when I get back from this weekend I have to talk to you about something ok?  Ok.  I’m leaving now, bye!”  He looked so confused.  Like some sort of lunatic had just burst through his door…oh wait, THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED.

After that interaction, I literally ran back out of his house, slamming all the doors on my way out, and ran back across his yard where I jumped in my car and said out loud to myself, “I think I might vomit now.”  Then I drove away.  Really!?  A sane person does not do this. If put on trial, I would claim temporary insanity.

It’s been days and I am still slightly mortified that I did this.  So, there ya go.  I have clearly crossed over the line and have completely lost it.  I am a nut.

Annie's GreenBuild Creeper...Part 2

So. After about a week of Annie not responding to Lance, we decided that Annie should respond and reject the poor fellow so he wasn't sitting around eagerly waiting to hear her response. We did the math and Lance graduated from college when Annie was starting kindergarten. See below for Annie's response. Now mind you, she thought it was mean. I saw nothing rejection-esque at all about it but she didn't believe me. I told her that she was gonna get a response from him. Shelby the intern agreed with me. She refused to believe me. And here we are again.

From: Annie Bevan
Sent: Tuesday, October 25, 2011 8:06 AM

To: Harry, Lance UTCFS
Subject: RE: From Greenbuild... hello

Hey Lance,

Sorry for the delay in response…things have  been pretty crazy around here, which I guess is a good thing!

I thought the show was a little less exciting than other years…it might have been the international venue…I know a lot of competitors and big company’s presence just weren’t there. Hopefully attendance picks back up in San Francisco next year! My company, GreenCircle Certified, did have a booth but I was taking a few classes as well. I think we have a few potential jobs after the show…but still in the pipe line.

That’s really cool you’re from Council Rock! I went to Owen J for High School…don’t know if you heard of it.

I don’t use Yahoo IM messenger nor a BBM too much.

I hope business is going well for you.

-Annie

From: Harry, Lance UTCFS
Sent: Tuesday, October 25, 2011 8:35 AM

To: Annie Bevan
Subject: RE: From Greenbuild... hello

Annie,

Well first, hope you don’t think I’m a wacko, lol (every time a guy says 'don't think I'm a wacko', 95% of the time, they truly are a wacko)…  I spend a good portion of my day staring at my computer, so I got your email this morning… obviously, figured no need to wait to respond (unlike Annie who waited a week...)….  More fun ‘chatting’ to you than slogging through the 50 emails I got overnight!

I was only at CR for 2 years (moved in from Colorado… I was the new kid)…  so not entirely familiar with HS’s in the area… about all I knew were schools in our sports districts, and those I played against… hockey.  Neshaminy, CB East/West , Archbishop Wood, Bishop Egan (NJ), William Tennent… I’m an old man, so it’s been a long time!  We played a few teams down your way too… Malvern Prep was a big rival.

Anywho, I digress…  definitely good to be busy… busy here as well, although it seems I’m more busy outside of work than inside of work… playing hockey, golf, running around etc…   Going to the Bruins – Canadians game on Thursday… always a good game!

And now, in the past 2 weeks I’ve had 4 recruiters contact me, so now I’m in the midst of thinking about job change too…  never a dull moment!

Have a good week… thanks for getting back to me… I was actually just thinking this morning, maybe I’d shoot you a quick hello again… so your ears must have been ringing!

Talk with you soon

-Lance

Now gentlemen, if you were in Annie's shoes, how should she respond to get him to stop emailing her?

Annie's GreenBuild Creeper

So my coworkers were up to Toronto for GreenBuild, which is a USGBC conference on green building. While they were up there, they were invited to a party hosted by GreenGuard. Basically they had an awesome time and were in a dance-off with our competing company (although they keep denying it). While they were dancing on the stage, a lumberjack was jumping up and down with them from Fire Safety Misting Company. Mind you, my coworker Annie didn't pay that much attention to him since he couldn't dance and was a lumberjack from Boston. She didn't remember his name or who he was nor did she really talk to him. About a week after the conference, she received an email. The following email correspondence is completely true. I have bolded the best parts.

From: Harry, Lance
Sent: Friday, October 14, 2011 10:56 AM
To: Annie Bevan
Subject: From Greenbuild... hello

Hey Annie… just wanted to say hi.  Hope you got back from Toronto ok… sorry were weren’t able to connect again… realized your email probably wasn’t going to work.

Wouldn’t mind keeping in touch.

Have a great weekend

Lance H.

***At this point, Annie wanted to keep him as a networking contact for work in case we ever needed Fire Safety things.***
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From: Annie Bevan
Sent: Monday, October 17, 2011 12:38 PM
To: Harry, Lance
Subject: RE: From Greenbuild... hello

Hey Lance!

Great meeting you in GreenBuild too! The trip home was a little rough being it was Canadian Thanksgiving as well as the airport security had issued a “slow down” because they can’t strike…so that may have been the longest security line I ever waited in…but it worked out and we all made it home in one piece.

How did the rest of your GreenBuild go?

I’d definitely like to stay in touch. (Note to all girls: DO NOT EVER SAY THIS! CREEPERS WILL TAKE ADVANTAGE! I should know. I have experience)

Talk to you soon.

Annie

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From: Harry, Lance
Sent: Monday, October 17, 2011 1:18 PM
To: Annie Bevan
Subject: RE: From Greenbuild... hello

Hey Annie…  great to hear from you J (Smiley face #1)

Yes… security was an adventure… most of us stayed through Friday morning… but we had a few people there on Thursday night when it got really crazy with the security ‘sort of’ strike!  Lol…  we had a few people txting us from the line saying they had stood there for like 5 hours without moving… crazy!

I had an early flight on Friday… it wasn’t horrible… luckily I got there early enough (5:15!)… so made it through ok… spent ~30 min in customs and ~40 min in security line, but ended up getting right to my gate about the time we started boarding, so worked out fine!

Show was ‘ok’ for us… its more about our overall corporate presence (UTC… big ass company) than it is about getting leads!   I was wandering around the show at one point Thursday hoping I’d run into you!  Thought for a second you had a booth, then thought you and your colleagues were just there taking classes, etc wasn’t sure.…  when I saw your card didn’t have you’re cell… I knew id have a hard time finding you again!

Is this email ok to use?  Should I switch to a non-work related email?  I don’t want to get you in trouble..

How was the weekend?  I went to the Pats-Cowboys game with some friends… great game… still recovering!  So your NW of Philly eh?   So now that we have ‘time’ to actually have a conversation, lol…  my last two years of HS were in Bucks Co…  Newtown…  Council Rock.  Do you know it?  My dad’s side of the family is from the Audubon area (I hardly know any of them… its been a while since I’ve been down that way).  Just thought you’d find that funny…

Do you use Yahoo IM?  Or Blackberry Msgr? 

Definitely keep in touch!  J (Note: 2nd smiley face of the email)

-Lance

The first 40 days in Phoenixville

It has been 40 days of me living in the wonderfully awkward and bizarre town called Phoenixville. I think that this town was actually made with me in mind... mainly because of all the weird and awkward things I have experienced and seen while living in this town. So let me update you with my stories.

After the first week I moved in, Michael came up to visit and we went to Bethlehem for a Needtobreathe concert. While I was driving (yes, he finally let me drive), I stopped at a stop sign. This man started crossing the street. He was in his 50s (most likely) and shirtless with his beer belly showing and I didn't want to look at that so I sorta looked away while he walked in front of my car. As I wasn't paying attention to him, Michael then says, "Is that man wearing a snake?!" Instantly, my head shot up to look at him. Sure enough, this man had on in replace of a shirt a giant boa constrictor, probably 6 feet long wrapped around his neck like a scarf. Because that's normal.

Once we were at the concert, we had fun. I made friends with this girl who had cute boots on and a giant rock on her finger. Afterwards we go to leave but I decided I should use the facility before we start the drive home. We had already exited the building so we turn around to go back through the door. There were like 4 other guys trying to go through the door and like 4 girls trying leave through the door. This very drunk man stops all of us and lets the girls filter out. Then he turns to me and says, "ladies first" and lets me enter. I go through and heard someone say something to me so I turn around and say, "what?" expecting Michael to be right behind me speaking.

Apparently, Michael was cut off by the very drunk man because the very drunk man was talking to me really close. I try to figure out what the guy wants and he says, "you know, a guy like me is very lonely and could use a girl like you. Want to come with me? I have a hotel room" and he started to grab my arm to drag me away.

I clearly start panicking and Michael was a few steps behind and wasn't quite realizing what was happening. So I turn my head and get Michael's attention and mouth the words "help me", or as Michael put it I "silently screamed for help." And then Michael comes over and the guy starts stuttering, "Oooh you have a boyfriend! I wouldn't have asked you if I knew you had one. Sorry" And then he walked away. As if my opinion of him greatly changed now that I knew he thought I was single at first. Actually, I'm worried that if I was with other girls and not a guy, I worry what he would have continued to say to me since I am in fact single. To be honest, I'm shocked that he walked away so easily and didn't follow. I'm very grateful that he walked away with no other comments direct towards me. (This is why I keep guy friends around- yay thanks Michael for chasing away that creepy guy.)

The week after, I go to buy a couch. I go to a furniture store after getting off of work late so it's around 8 o'clock and clearly the guy is bored. Not only does he follow me around the store, he ends up talking my ear off about books and music and my new town. Apparently he's in a folk band and plays at bars in my town. He practically asked me out to an open mic without actually explicitly saying those words. I didn't think anything at all about saying I couldn't go until I was being rung up for the couch I was buying-- aka, I had to give this boy my cell phone number, my address and a check in order to buy this couch. I completely didn't think that through. But he didn't stalk me or anything which is good.

The week after my couch came, Patty came to visit. We went to eat outside at this little bistro. Right as we get our drinks, a bird pooped on my head. Unfortunately, there were a bunch of middle school and high school kids eating near us so I knew that if I made a commotion about it, they would then freak out and it would be an obnoxious mess. So I had to sit through the entire meal without saying anything knowing that there was bird poop in my hair. The good thing is that apparently a bird pooping on your head means good financial luck is supposed to be coming your way, woot! After dinner, Patty and I go to get ice cream. We are walking back and a boy stops us and says, "can I lick your ice cream cone?" in a very creepy manner. We continued walking. I then washed the poop out of my hair. And that's a normal day walking down Bridge Street for me.

A week after that, I am driving home from work and am at a stop sign. A man drove by me on a motorcycle with a little sidecar attached. In that sidecar was not a passenger. Instead, there was a giant (probs about 4 feet), overstuffed Teddy Bear buckled in and wearing a bike helmet, no big deal. That was a very odd sight. Sorry I didn't get a picture, I tried but he drove away too fast.

Moving on, this past Saturday, I witnessed a real life Elmo standing on the street corner. I don't even want to know what that was about.

And the cherry on top of these 40 days was today. Today I was driving home from church and was on Bridge Street about to turn onto Gay/Franklin Street when a military truck filled with armed soldiers drivers by. And then another. And then another. And then THREE ARMY TANKS drive by with soldiers in it and then 2 more army trucks. Fully armed. For no good reason. I managed to take a picture. (Note: I worked on an Army base so I'm used to military equipment howeverrr I am NOT used to it being driven down the street on civilian land.)

And here is a picture to prove that I didn't make it all up.

So this is my new town and my new life. It's not getting any less awkward so I anticipate lots of stories in the future :)

Guest Feature: Dover Wal-Mart and Feet Fetishes

Within the past year, I've gotten to get to know this awesome girl named Nicole Nadler. She's pretty, cool and super nice :) And clearly she also attracts the awkward. And here is her story from a few weeks ago.
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Okay so I was in walmart and it was quite crowded due to the upcoming hurricane. I'm barely in the store for 5 minutes when a very redneck guy on crutches approaches me asking me if I will help him pick out some dressy shoes for his girlfriend. He was really creepy but I was having a cheerful morning and warily agreed, despite my gut feeling. My true thought process was that since God doesn't judge me by how (un)educated, (un)attractive, and (un)appealing I am, I shouldn't judge others on that basis either. So we go across the walmart to the shoe section. He tells me that the crutches he is using are actually for his gf because she hurt herself... which should have been my first red flag. I mean, who uses someone else's crutches when they aren't even the one who is hurt?! So then he asks ME to use the crutches to get a height measurement and take off my left shoe bc that is the foot she hurt... I was feeling all sorts of uncomfortable but didn't want to be rude... So I did. And much to my surprise and he said "well you have to bend your knee like its in a cast" and bent down and TOUCHED MY FOOT to show me how "her" foot is positioned. I was so weirded out and THEN he whipped out his phone and asked is he could take a picture of me (and my foot) on crutches to show "her" and I said "no, that's not necessary". Since he already had his phone out though he was slick and I am about 99% sure he took a picture. Of my foot. In Wal-Mart. So then I just turned around and ran away and will be forever traumatized by the thought of whatever entertainment and joy that photo is bringing to the man.

The Office Fall

Sometimes, my life is awkward. And other times it's so awkwardly clumsy that it's funny. Today was the latter.

My boss had been out of town for a few days on business and had just gotten back today. Since it's the end of the month too everyone was very stressed. I was sitting in his office in a chair with my leg tucked underneath me as I always sit when I briefly drop in to go over items with him. Apparently, I wasn't so brief with him this time.

As I got up from the chair to leave, I put my left foot out to walk. As soon as my weight started shifting onto it, though, I knew. Something terrible was about to happen. 

When you realize something like that however it becomes so ominously depressing because you just know that you can't do anything to prevent the bad from happening. My immediate thought was, "Oh dear this won't be good." But continue I did and my foot went out. My weight continued to shift but my foot was NOT there.

Or rather, my foot was physically there but I could not feel it touching the ground. So i kept moving...down. Aka I collapsed. Right there in my boss's office. Right as he was getting a phone call with a client started. So he asks, 'Are you ok?' and goes back to his phone call.

At that point, it was embarrassing and slightly confusing because I didn't understand why my foot didn't work. But I said, "Yes I'm fine" and to prove it, I try getting up again. 

Note to self: when your foot is limp and apparently so asleep you can't feel anything (including the floor or the tingly sensation you usually get with a sleepy foot) that is a good time to continue sitting on the floor. I learned this the hard way and I got up to prove I was ok.

I stood up trying to have dignity and promptly fell over again. This fall, unfortunately, ended up with me falling onto my foot. So now not only was it asleep my foot had impact damage too. Still with that damage, I think I would have attempted to get up again for a third time if it weren't for my shoe. My shoe went flying this second round. I sorta rolled over to where it was in the office (mind you, my boss is on the phone trying to ignore me at this point) and try to put it on. Since it was a fancy flip flip, you sorta have to wiggle ur toes to get the middle part in between your toes. I couldn't wiggle my toes. 

I don't think I have ever had such a lack of feeling in my foot. Since I couldn't wiggle or feel my toes, I had to use my hands to force the flip flop on awkwardly. That took a few moments and I had a moment to try to compose myself.

Clearly that did not work. I could tell that Annie was already doubled over in her chair laughing, Debbie was running over to try to help me and everyone else had their mouths gaping and laughing and I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe. At this point, the only thing one could do was to try not to fall for a 3rd time. That was probably one of the hardest challenges I've ever had to do. 

Thank goodness I used to do yoga. I managed to pull myself up by some random move on my right leg. Then I tried exiting Tad's office and casually meander into the common area. As everyone is staring and howling with laughter, I test out my foot. By this time (probably a good 2 minutes after the 1st fall), my foot was FINALLY tingly. So I managed to hobble as gracefully as one can hobble out of the office and into my desk chair to try to make my phone call.

Needless to say, I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe nevertheless talk. It took me 15 minutes to try to compose myself before I could pick up the receiver to call this client. And the rest of the day I was so worried I couldn't walk again without falling that I refused to get out of my chair. I wheeled it around very slowly everywhere I needed to go. When I left the office that night, only 2 people were remaining and I tried to be as discreet as possible about my limping. Thank goodness I am very comfortable with everyone in that office, otherwise I would have been mortified.

It is now 5 hours later and I still can't walk on my foot and it's now swollen. This was all from me trying to get out of a chair. Just imagine me trying to do some sort of physical activity like soccer. But it's ok I'm still laughing so hard that Momma T just asked me if I was alright (:

PS- I'm moving into my apartment on Sunday. Clearly this will be an entertaining move since I can't walk anymore and since my father is old with gout. Help is greatly wanted/needed. I will feed you. Or buy you Wawa and/or local deli food. Yay!

Stuffed Pancakes with Strawberries

Hello blog friends (: It has been a while, I know and I apologize for my minor blip into nonawkward-land. I won't do it again. I come bearing a wonderful story from last night though in hopes to make it up to you.

As many of you are aware, I have been a ravenous fiend for the past few months eating everything in my path. I'm sorta like a campus squirrel or a bear about to begin hibernation. Perhaps I have convinced myself that upon the start of summer I may never eat again and that is why I am eating so much, I do not know. But since I was starving (again), I convinced my lovely friend, Patty, to stop at IHOP on our way back from the airport last night.

Here we are, two girls in the IHOP on Main Street, chomping down on our food at 1am as is a normal occurrence for me and my friends. My hunger is temporarily satisfied and we receive the bill. As we are debating on getting up or not, this boy starts to walk by us. But walk by us, he does not. He decides to stop and tell us something very important.

"You MUST get the stuffed pancakes with strawberries."

What? "Hi girls. You must get the stuffed pancakes with strawberries. They are sooooo good. You must get them."

At which point, he decides to plop himself down next to Patty in the booth and wrap his arm around her. (Patty's face silently screamed, "Oh heyyyyy there. Whatcha doing?") I responded to him saying, "well next time we will definitely order those stuffed pancakes with strawberries then."

To his response being, "What did you get this time?"

"Eggs and bacon"

"Oh no. That's gonna make you vom. You need to get the pancakes. That won't make you vom. You are gonna vom." (Apparently, the need to finish saying words is unnecessary.)

"No it won't. I'm not drunk. Unlike you."

"You are going to vom. Hi- what's your name because you are my new friend." (He said to Patty). Patty answers and then he asks us our majors. She said human services at which point he reaffirmed his new friendship with her. She was very uncomfortable. I said engineering because most times if I say chemical engineering to a drunk student at UD they either get so impressed or they get so confused so I stick with plain old 'engineering'.

This boy, still in our booth, then asks me (he was a geology major) what type of engineering I was. I was impressed because a lot of people don't know that there are different kinds nor do they care to ask. I responded with chemical at which point he said, "Do you know Catherine Collison?!"

"YES! She's like one of my really close friends"

"NO WAY?! I LOVE CATHY! I'm gonna go sit on her side of the table, sorry, no offense Patty."

This very drunk boy then comes over to my side of the table to give me lots and lots of hugs. Please note: He said Cathy in the last comment. This is important because, you see, Catherine hates the name Cathy but everyone else really loves it. I successfully got our senior design advisors to call her Cathy Collision instead of Catherine Collison. I was also told that a guy on the sailing team was insistent on calling her Cathy as well. In fact, Cathy had told me at 4pm that very afternoon that I needed to meet this guy named Matt because he and I would get along so well since we both loved calling her Cathy.

As we are hugging each other, I tell him that I love Cathy and the sailing team and I love calling her Cathy. He said, "Oh my God. Me too!!" I ask him his name so we can text her. He says, "Matt Bowden."

Yes. I did just randomly happen to meet a person that my friend told me to meet 9 hours after that conversation by shear coincidence. Without any mutual friends around. I love Delaware. It is only here that that can happen on a regular basis and we shouldn't be surprised by it.

After lots more hugs, I tell him that we need to go home and he should find his people so we parted ways. I friended him on Facebook with the message, "When you get this, you won't have any idea who I am because you were blacked-out drunk at IHOP but we both know Cathy Collison and must be real friends." He then professed his love for me. I have it in writing. You can check my facebook wall.

And yes, the next time I go to IHOP, I will make sure to order the stuffed pancakes with strawberries just because my new friend, Matt, told me to. You should order them to.

An Update

Hey there, awkward readers!

I just wanted to give you an update on my life since I haven’t posted any of my awkward stories on here since December. Have awkward stories happened to me? Yes, of course. I had a strange man follow me from when I walked out of my dorm to Trabant the other day. He originally wasn’t walking in the same direction that I was headed either but he turned around when I passed him.  Nothing came of it so I can’t write about it.

But there have been no solid stories in a while. I like to think it’s because I’m getting skilled at dealing with them however that would be a complete lie- I’m awkward. I really think it’s mainly due to two reasons. 

1. I haven’t been out that much in places where I can create stories. Between work, family, shyness and sickness, I just haven’t been places this year where the awkward can creep on me.
2. A lot of my stories that are my truly awkward stories I can’t write up because of privacy issues. Aka some of my creepers have found my blog and read it or some of you made me feel super awkward but I won’t tell you or write about it because I don’t want you knowing.

But do not fear. I’m still very awkward at heart. And I’m sure more stories will come.

In the meantime, please watch this video. These are very awkward.

and this one too. They won't let me put it directly on this page though, sorry. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o4sfh2u8cgU

Guest Feature: Patty Reed's Awkward Life

Patty (originally named Patricia) is the awesomest girl ever. Sometimes when I think of frogs, I'm reminded of her. She is super cool and loves eating potatoes and doing YoungLife and has a car and lives in Kent County, MD (the good Kent Co) and understands my passion/affair with John Deere. But she is not a hick. She is cool and appreciates culture...agriculture that is.

And here is her story.
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Hide and seek is an excellent game.  It’s a great source of fun for hours for people of all ages.  Seriously, my kudos to the person who came up with the idea.  However, this game can easily lead to some very awkward situations—like realizing you’ve been hiding for a while and no one is actually looking for you or having to sit by yourself in tight spaces for long periods of time.  This particular story happens to involve both.

Recently, I was at an annual overnight conference for a ministry that I am a part of.  After the evening session on the first night, a few of us went into a large open ballroom in the center of the hotel to sit and talk before going off to sleep.  Now, this is a strange room because there is a large waterfall structure at the back of the room, against a large glass wall that looks over to the pool area, and the walls are covered with windows from the hotel rooms that are adjacent to the ballroom.  The room was set up with dozens of round tables and there were a few people sitting at one towards the middle of the room.  So, naturally, we chose a large table over on the far right so as to avoid interrupting the group already there. 

So we’ve been there talking for a solid 20 minutes by now, mostly about how weird it is that hotel rooms look out into the ballroom (I mean seriously, who needs that?), when we hear a muffled voice say “So I don’t mean to freak you out, but, ummmm, my friends and I are playing hide and seek annnnd, well I’ve been under here for a while.”  As this is happening we are all looking around in complete confusion until it dawns on us.  There is someone under the table.

So we lift up the tablecloth and sure enough, there’s a kid wearing thick, dark-framed, hipster glasses and skinny jeans sitting on the floor under the table.  Like I said, we’d been there for about 20 minutes when this all happens, and we didn’t see him crawl under there, so he had been there the entire time.  I’m actually pretty impressed we didn’t accidentally kick him in the face.  After a few minutes of keeping him concealed as a small group of his friends walked through the ballroom, he cautiously crawls out, ready to find a new spot.  We had learned by this time that his name was Matt and he was not at the same conference we were at, which meant a lot of our conversation (which had been about our ministry) probably sounded super weird to him.

But it doesn’t end there.  As he is standing next to our table planning his next course of action, he’s caught off guard by a group of his friends that entered the ballroom.  One of them says, “dude, where have you been?!”  A strange question since they’re playing hide and seek, right?  Matt answers that he’s been hiding of course and his friend retorts, “we’re not playing hide and seek we’re playing tag!”

There it was.  Not only had he been hiding under our table for the entirety of the time we were there, but he wasn’t even supposed to be hiding.  All in all, a pretty excellent dose of awkward.

Guest Feature: Sharon's Awkward Life

This next post is from my friend Sharon. Sharon plays the violin on an ancient fiddle and forgets her shoes. I met her freshman year- we both lived in the same dorm and had the same honors chemical engineering classes together.  And very shortly after meeting her, I was hearing the beginnings of this story unfold. Let me just say stories like these are why I have an awkward story blog.
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The summer following my freshman year of high school I worked away from home at a conference center. While living there I became really good friends with a few of the guys that were also working there. Being moderately tom-boyish and completely inept when it comes to ‘girl-talk’ and similar such things, I tend to find guys to be more pleasant company than girls (especially when you’re living in a cabin with about fifteen young teenage girls). For the purpose of this blog of awkwardness, I will focus on one of them. He was 18 that summer, I was 14, but we were mentally at about the same level so we got along well.

So summer came to a close and we went our separate ways. For the next half a year or so, he and I kept in touch via letters. The next summer comes along, and I return to work at the center, but he does not. Oh well, no big deal, another friend come and gone…

Now let’s fast-forward a few years… I’m now a freshman in college.

It’s my second weekend in the lovely state of Delaware, and I am trying out a church that my pastor from my previous church had recommended. It seems to be a lovely service and at the end of the service, I turn around to gather my stuff from the pew.. and BOOM there’s a familiar face sitting right behind me. It took me a minute to figure out where I knew him from, but then it clicked, I knew him from almost four years ago…

So, hey no big deal, a friend shows up again, cool peas. Right?

WRONG! Very quickly I discovered that while 18 year old me had changed a lot from 14 year old me, 22 year old him well… still acted like 14 year old me. Over the course of the next few weeks he quickly started trying to talk to me ALL the time: at church, posting on Facebook, on AIM (yeah instant messenger, how long has it been since you’ve used that?), etc…. Then next thing I know he’s telling me that not only did he like me back when I was 14 (ok 18 year old liking a 14 year old? kinda creepy) he still likes me and in his words ‘has never stopped’ liking me.

Um, excuse me… what? I’m sorry, but last time I checked I hadn’t talked to him in several years, so if I heard that correctly… you never stopped liking someone you had no reason to think you’d ever see again? That’s either a lie or creepy.

Seeing as he:

a.  doesn’t go by his real name on facebook, but instead by a character name from a story he’s writing

b. had taken to writing bizarre things to me in code from the game Final Fantasy ( In case you’re curious apparently ‘Syo dra cdync creha ibuh ouin vyla Meddma Uha’ means ‘May the stars shine upon your face Little One’ in Al Bhed… never having played Final Fantasy, I had to look it up)

c. has an obsession with knifes… not that I don’t like knives… but it does add points towards the creepy argument

d. still lives with his parents while working night shift… again, nothing wrong with living with parents or working at night, but when combined with other stuff just sets off warning bells of RUN AWAY

e. likes a girl way too young for him

… we’ll go with creepy…really creepy. Oh, and did I mention that I had a boyfriend at the time, and  that he knew I had a boyfriend? Anyway, I politely turned him down. Great, this should be end of story, guy gets his heart broken, he’ll get over it and move on.

Fast-forward again to Junior year of college

It’s spring semester, and I log into facebook and find a new message, from oh yes, the same kid.  Once again, he pours out his feelings, letting me know that he can’t stay silent and has to know if I like him in return. (Mind you I again had a boyfriend, and yes he knew I did) Annoyed at the whole situation, I ignored the message. Flat out ignored it. I even avoided my church! I figured, this would blow over, if I ignored it, he would go away.

A week later I get another message asking if I received the previous message. I ignored it.

A day after that I get another message asking if I am ignoring him. Uh…. Duh? I ignored it.

Ten days later, another message that simply said goodbye.

Seven hours later, another message asking me if I ever even considered him a friend. Yeah, I’m a jerk, I ignored it.

Nine days later, another message. This one started out alright, he was apologizing for his rash behavior and forwardness. It went on to say how he valued our friendship and so on and so forth... then it just went downhill as he stated that ‘most importantly’ he had liked me ever since he first met me, and still likes me. I ignored that one too…

I’m sorry boys but persistence isn’t always charming, and if a girl flat out ignores you, that does NOT mean you should continue telling her that you like her, especially if she is in a relationship with someone else… that’s like asking someone to cheat on their significant other, it’s just wrong!!!!!!!

I wish I could say he’s given up, I really wish I could…

Guest Feature: Meghan's Awkward Life

Before I introduce today's guest author, I just wanted to say to all of you mystery readers that it is ok to comment below and leave your opinions! I know that a whole bunch of you are reading anonymously and everything but let's encourage these girls (or guys)!! And it's cool to follow the blog too. If you have gmail, it should be super easy for you to do so. Ok- now starting introductions....


Meghan has been my friend for many years but the one reason why we bonded so quickly because we always have awkward things happening to us. Our friendship grew but this past year was hard because Meghan moved to Mexico for a study-abroad and ended up getting a teaching job there until this last December. Now she moved to Paterson, NJ as an AmeriCorps person working in a bilingual community, putting her passion for Spanish and helping others to good use. 
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I have spent the last few months juggling in my mind what I want to do with my life, going back and forth and coming up with a new plan every day. Then, in one day, I was offered a potential husband, a job, an apartment, a second family, and a car. You might be asking yourself right now- how can I do that too?

I had met up with a client for work to help her with translating documents for her kid’s school. Somehow, this turned into me going to her apartment (in a very scary part of Paterson where she told me never to walk alone). After being in her apartment for over an hour just talking about life, I began to wonder why she had called me to come over! But I blamed this on a language misunderstanding… maybe I was missing something because we were speaking Spanish.

Casually, she brings up that they are illegal immigrants and starts to tell me about their life. I had told her earlier that I didn’t have a car, so she mentioned (jokingly I thought ) that I could just move in with her family for free, and then I could use their car all the time and drive them around (since they don’t have licenses)- it’d be perfect for all of us! I laughed (convinced this was a joke), but when she brought it up later, I realized it definitely wasn’t! But I explained to her that I already have an apartment, and she said well just move out! Hmmm seeing as she wouldn’t even let me walk down the street to the bus stop at 6:00 PM because it was too dangerous that late at night, I’m thinking this isn’t the place I want to move to.  But I just explained that I already had signed a lease that I couldn’t get out of.

Then she explained that she had invited me over to see if I could tutor her 2 sons (who are in elementary school). This explains the job part of my first statement- the most normal thing that happened that night.

She tells me about her whole extended family- and that her husband has a 24 year old son from a previous marriage a half hour away. So she decides to call him, hand me the phone, and tell me it’s my new friend! I start speaking to him in English (not knowing what language to talk in) and he didn’t understand anything… eventually I just handed the phone over saying I don’t know what to say to him! She asks me when I can start tutoring and we agree on Tuesday, so she asks him if he’s free on Tuesday.. Hmm I sense a set up. When I told my boss (who’s from El Salvador) the story, he says he thinks she’s trying to get me to marry her son to make him legal. Thankfully, I got stuck at a meeting that day and couldn’t go over!

The conversation continues and she invites me to dinner, to her family party the following day, to her son’s communion. She wants me to take road trips with the family so I can drive them, to come sleep over sometimes, and to attend family events with them. How did this all happen when it was the second time we were meeting???  Is this a genuinely nice Latin American family like I found all over Mexico or are they using me to get past the restrictions of being immigrants, or a little bit of both???

This is just one of many strange things to happen to me since I moved to Paterson. Other events include getting offered chocolate by an extremely high guy on a bus- and him insisting over and over again as we got stuck in non-moving traffic as I was just hoping we would move so I could escape; asking for directions from a taxi driver who told us to pay $5- which we of course said no we’ll find directions somewhere else- and she felt bad so she followed us and told us where to go when we reached our next stop; having everyone assume I’m latin american (by the way I am very Irish looking- blonde hair, blue eyes, you know) and talking to me in Spanish, which half the time I get and the other half I don’t; getting constantly hit on by the grandpa across the street; being told that it doesn’t matter that I’m an AmeriCorps volunteer because when in Paterson “you come on vacation, you leave on probation“); living in a place where Spanglish seems to be the official language and to my amazement most people can think in 2 languages at once and switch back and forth throughout a single sentence; and just living in a city that seems to be in its own planet in general. 

Random Sidebar

Oh heyyyyy!

So... This random link popped in my news feed on facebook and I really wanted to share it with ya'll. It's called "How to Approach a Woman." This is for all the gents out there that are the reason why I have the blog in the first place. I'm sorry that there is foul language in it and some strong innuendos. But it's funny. If you have issues with the language (since a lot of you I know will), then don't watch it. Mmkay? K. Yay!

Also- I'm not quite sure why that picture is posted as the frozen frame on the clip. That has nothing to do with the video, don't worry. It's not that risqué.