Wednesday, March 20, 2019

i'm really great at talking to guys. *sarcasm*


Let’s discuss something. I’m REALLY great at talking to guys.

By “REALLY great”, I mean I’m terrible at talking to guys.

By “i’m terrible” I mean, its real bad ya’ll.

Real. Bad.

It feels like it’s always a walking bad dream. Not bad like those dreams where you wake up in a cold sweat remembering you forgot to give table 9 their sweet tea. More like one of those bad dreams where you wake up in a cold sweat realizing you forgot to turn off the oven and now you have to go drive down to your job and make sure the building didn’t burn down. And it’s 4 in the morning.

For clarification, yes, I know you’re asking “but you work in the service industry. You serve everyone coffee. Men and Women. You should be great at talking to men and people in general.” To which I would say, yes, true. You’d THINK that I would be good at talking to ANYONE.

I don’t have any problems talking people, as long as there is a counter between myself and the outside world that they belong too. I don’t have a problem talking women, as we can usually find something in common and have that normal womanly banter of “OH EM GEE YAAAAS GIRL, I FEEL THAT.” I don’t usually have a problem talking guys that come up to my counter, because i can just put on that “cool, hippie barista vibe” and go about the conversation. I definitely don’t have a problem talking to the guys that are my friends, that I have some history with and have known for a very very long time. I can be the truest form of myself, oddities, weird humor, and all and not worry about trying to impress them. Because, guess what. DON’T WANNA IMPRESS THEM. WANT THEM TO STAY FAR FAR INTO THE FRIENDZONE. Faaaaaaaaaaaar in that black hole. And never come out of it.

However, if I don’t know a guy, and find them in the least least bit attractive, and if by SOME STRETCH OF THE IMAGINATION they want to engage with me in some delightful exchanges, my entire brain goes into “abort mission” mode. I’m convinced my brain is trying to sabotage me in some way. If I attempt to flirt at all, it comes out as sassy, sarcastic, and awkward, all at once. Throw in the whole, not being able to form words properly, and you’ve got a decent idea and a terrible execution.

With ALL this being said, let me tell you about one of my most recent blunders with talking to the opposite sex. 

Once, an attractive man came in to my workplace. I was talking to this attractive man, while I was working, as one does when they are trying to maintain good customer service. However, in the course of this conversation, I was trying to get some information out of him.

Now I KNOW HOW TERRIBLE THAT SOUNDS. But I promise, the information was vital for any other potential interactions. Let’s list a few reasons why I needed to get this information.

1. This man was very nice on the eyes. 
2. He was very charming. 
3. Some vibes were being put out into the atmosphere.
of what, i'm not here to assume anything. so we will just call them some ole' run of the mill vibes and not label in any particular way.

Being mildly attracted to this very handsome man - I say mildly because this is only the second or third time we have ever interacted - I wanted to be sure we were on the same page with something very important to me before I went swimming in potentially shark infested waters.

Let’s also keep in mind, previous to this interaction, there had been other small talk. Any previous conversation consisted of sarcastic banter with underlying levels of intrigue. Might I add that he started it, and I’m sassy so, there you go. Don’t judge me.

I love Jesus, a lot. I wanted to see where this guy stood in that regard so as not to waste time with my curiosity. I wanted to see where he fell on the “Jesus Spectrum”, if you will. I do this with anyone, usually, that I’m conversing with.

Because of my clear lack of  social skills, I ABSOLUTELY went about this the wrong way. If you know me well at all,Let’s be honest with ourselves and admit that nothing about this is new.

What had happened was………….

This fella at some point, made his way to my counter. I’m pretty sure we were having some gnarly sarcastic banter as per the usual, when he decided to ask me how old I was.

“26”, I told him, confident in my age, but also saddened at the same time. I never thought I’d make it to 26. It feels like yesterday that I was 16 screaming to ‘burnin up’ by the jonas brothers and planning my wedding to the middle brother, Joe.

I digress. What was I talking about? Oh right.

This guy asked me how old I was, I told him. Right.

I decided to ask him the same question.

He told me his age, 33.  He was the same age (that we know of) of Jesus in His last year of ministry. And that’s when it hit me. THAT WAS MY WAY IN TO TALK ABOUT JESUS even if briefly. Nevermind the fact that people were around and about to order coffee, they could listen too.
I mustered up some sort of courage - remember I’m an anxious little bean - and said, with some deeply hidden confidence,

“OH YOU’RE THE SAME AGE JESUS WAS WHEN HE DIED.”

As soon as that sentence exited my mouth, I knew I done messed up A A RON (let the record show that I am merely quoting a popular Key and Peele sketch. I in no way am claiming this as my own. It just fit perfectly). I knew that was the actual DUMBEST THING to ever leave my lips. I knew I had screwed up any other potential interactions with this gentleman.

Or so I thought.

What happened next was nothing short of some sort of miracle. He laughed.

He.
Laughed.

Did anyone hear that (or read that rather)? Is this mic on? Everyone knows how to read, right?

HE LAUGHED AT MY STUPID JOKE.

That laughed was quickly followed by a concerned sigh of realization of what I said,  and answered, “you’re not wrong.” BUT HE FOUND IT FUNNY EVEN STILL. Shockingly he’s still managed to want to engage in conversation with me since. Bless his heart.

To that fella,
I feel like if you’re reading this, you’ve already remembered this moment well. Who wouldn’t? It was a goof of a conversation and a poor attempt at Jesus and humor and i respect you for still finding it hilarious. Hope you enjoyed this re-telling. Thank you, from the bottom of my very awkward yet big heart, for laughing. You deserve a medal. Or a vacation. Or a new barista.

To anyone else reading this,  
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. I’d love to hear any recent, or not recent blunders in conversation. Hit me with them in the comments below. Give me a good laugh or a full body cringe. I’m ready for it.