Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Awkward thy name is Douglas

I've never considered myself socially adept. I'm not smooth, I don't finish sentences, I'm easily distracted, and prone to pauses. Mostly because I over-think, and over-analyze everything. This effect is multiplied a hundredfold when I am around others who share my special disease or when I am around persons of the opposite sex, especially when I was single. The effect is somewhat dulled if I have drank either excessive amounts of caffiene or just the right amount of alcohol. All in all I seem to have a gift of steering the most casual, normal, everyday situation straight on down to Awkwardtown.

Case in point:

Yesterday, a girl I work with was hurrying to leave. I was fairly busy and the rest of the store was nightmare of customers. She is not the type to say goodbye, and neither am I. But as she walked by my desk something fell from the bundle of wool and Ipod accessories she was juggling for the door. It was some sort of plastic ringer, possibly for an earbud or peice of protective casing? I was inexplicably fascinated by it, as if it were made of precious metal (keep in mind it had been a looooong day). Anyhow, by the time i picked it up and remembered that it was a human being's possession, probably something that helps another something work properly, the girl in question was barely in 'embarassing shout' range, let alone 'I have any decent shot of running you down and embarassing you in person' range. And did i mention this is the type of shy person who rarely says goodbye?

So I set it on my desk, figuring I would just give it to her when she next worked. But then the over-thinking began. How could i just give it to her? Did she even know what it was? Was it important enough to have saved in the first place? Did she even know it was missing? How did i know it was hers, and yet still hadn't been able to let her know she'd dropped it when it originally happened? In short: how awkward am I, really?

In the end, i played the anonymous good samaritan. I saw her drop her bulging canvas bag full of scraves and hat and winter bundlings near my desk and I simply remembered the plastic doodad, and dropped it in her rucksack. Hopefully she found it and it healed her device of its problems. Maybe its still bound up in her mitten. I don't know. But hey, at least I wasn't all awkward about all of this, right?

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At 6:52 PM , Blogger oline said...

i do this too. maybe all people of our intellectual caliber do this? we're just so highly evolved.


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