Awkward Moment #1
I realize that I must look like a giant bitch all of the time. Since I’d adverse to sunlight and looking people directly in the eyes, my face is usually tense with a scrunched, sour expression, even if I’m deliriously happy.
Lately, I’ve gotten into the habit of forcing my face to relax, which is no easy feat after years of carefully practiced, bitchy frigidness.
So yesterday I was walking home, trying to relax my face to make it less contorted, when an older man passed me. I noticed him gazing at me, fascinated. Just as I breezed by, he turned and said: “Excuse me? Can I ask you something? Well… are you Irish?”
I was so shocked that someone actually randomly spoke to me that it took awhile to register in my brain. During this short span, the man must have seen my face contort once again, because he fumbled: “I’m sorry…” while I blurted out, “Oh, no! Hahaha! I’m not Irish, it’s the red hair!” We both giggled nervously and separated.
The same happened one day on my way to class. A man passed me and cried, “BONJOUR!” To which I automatically said, “BONJOUR!” My reflex was to reply in a language I don’t even understand. Because I am socially incompotent.
Awkward Moment #2 – The Mustang Sally’s Incident
I love Mustang Sally’s, especially when I’m smashed. One night, after the bar, I headed there with two friends of mine. I ran into my best friend J-Nurse, and immediately went to gather her in a loving embrace. We tipped over, onto the floor. I hauled a chip rack on top of us, and smashed my head with it.
There were about 20 guys in line-up, including a bunch of police in training, who all immediately clapped and sang some random song. I was beyond humiliated, but I went to order my food anyway. The server refused to attend to me because I was “too drunk,” which obviously I wasn’t. So I did what any sensible drunk would do — I burst into tears and fled outside.
This incident still haunts me. JagerBomb moved into a house with a bunch of strangers, and one of the girls said: “I think I saw you downtown last weekend, at Mustang Sally’s. When those girls fell down…”
Anyway, the highlight of my evening was soaking my feet in a pot of salts and fixing up my nails, all while listening to Fiona Apple. I finished The Shack by William Young, but i don’t know what all the fuss is about. The ideas were great, but the plot was less than thrilling. New York Times bestseller, really?