On Awkwardness

Please note this picture has nothing to do with embarrassment. Just enjoy the pretty flowers while I talk about less pleasant things.

I was thinking this week how much I hate being awkward. Have you ever noticed that the more you try not to be awkward, the more you become awkward? It's hard being human.

 

For as much as I hate being awkward, I'm well nigh an expert in it. Not by choice, I might add. So I thought I might share some stories from the distant, distant past.

Many, many moons ago when I was fresh out of college and pretending I knew what I was doing in the adult world, I traveled to Georgia for a training observation. Several of us were hanging out in a warehouse and we got to talking, as humans are wont to do. One of them was a older fellow who, in true contractor manner, was wearing non-descript cargo pants,  tan army boots, and dark fleeces. That's literally all I remember about him. Don't remember his name, his job, why he was there. I just remember what he wore. I'm not liking what this says about me, so let's move on, shall we?

Anyway, so we're all talking and at one point, out of the blue he looks over at me and asks, "How are you at taking shots?" To which I promptly and pluckily replied, "A notch above tolerable." He chuckled and looked a little creepy, and I subtly felt that I might have misunderstood the question. Years later, I realized I did. Because you see, to me, taking shots meant shooting a rifle, not throwing back some tequila.

On the scale of one to ten on the awkward-o-meter, that's about a one. I was the only one that knew I'd misunderstood something. I could go on about all the cultural and pop references I didn't understand until my early twenties, but let's not go there right now.

Also at about the same time, I went out to lunch  with a lovely lady who was not only brilliant at navigating work in a male-dominated field but also an extraverted, adventurous person. In otherwords, very intimidating for someone still learning what a shot was.  We went out for tapas. I had no idea what tapas were. I just knew they were meant to be eaten.

We got to the restaurant and I immediately became very, very confused as to why we were ordering so many different things. But isn't that terribly expensive? I wondered. I realized moments later as the food arrived that you were actually supposed to share all the plated food, which brought up a far more serious question, yet totally different question: why would I want to share all this delicious food?  What if I'm so hungry I just want all of it? What nut thought tapas was a good idea?

And, in the course of events, it led to more bafflement and a tense dialogue with myself about tapas etiquette. As so many of my tense personal dialogues go, this one proved fruitless.

How much food should I put on my plate at once? Is this like a personal-sized buffet for two where you're only supposed to take tiny bites of things so you don't look piggie? Man, I'm really hungry now.

All the while I was trying to have a conversation like a normal person about what I wanted to do with my life in the next 2 - 5 years and while paying close attention to how my friend was plating her food and how quickly she was eating it. I'm sure I looked slightly distracted.

Anyway, as I was thinking over these things this week, I realized that I've actually (remarkably! miraculously!) become a lot better at shaking off a bad case of the awkwards and just relaxing, not thinking so much, and being myself. It would be easy if it weren't so hard.

So here's to social interaction and all the awkwards that come with it. Because eventually you figure out that it's okay to not take yourself so seriously. And that's a great life lesson to learn.