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This Is Why I Can’t Have Nice Things. Err… Friends.

FeelingShameSo there is this guy who works at the gas station down the street that is really nice and seems pretty cool and laid back.  I’m hella interested into getting to know him as a person, and maybe pursuing a friendship.  Now, he’s married but so am I, and that’s ok because all I want into is his head.  (No really, I’m asexual.)

The problem is I’m socially awkward.  I’m also an odd duck, which is a nice way of saying I’m a bit weird or out there.

So today, since we had a bit of a conversation going, I asked him if he reads for fun.  He said yes, and named Harry Potter.  So I’m taking this to mean he doesn’t inhale books like I do, but he does know a good contemporary when he comes across one.  I nodded to myself and ran back home, I forgot something vital anyway, and figured I’d grab a copy of Siddhartha while I was there and give it to him when I passed back by his work, on my way to the store.

Why Siddhartha?  It’s my favorite book.  And as it’s not expensive, I tend to keep multiple copies around so I can give them to random people.  First of all, everyone who reads it gets something from it.  Something meaningful.  I got a strong grasp of spirituality, I think this guy will find some peace and quiet within it.  I also test people with this book.  I’m not testing what you get out of it.  That book is a personal journey and I can’t judge your experience based on mine.  You don’t even have to like the book.  Different strokes, different folks.  I honestly don’t even care if you read it.  I’ve been handed books that I’ll get to eventually but other books crop up first.  No, what I judge you on is your reaction to being handed the book.  See this is a “can we be best friends” test.  If you’re generally receptive to being handed a book, we stand a chance.  If you’re excited, especially after I have explained why this book, hello new best friend.  If you think I’m weird for handing you a book and/or treat it like it has cooties, we don’t stand a chance.

Well, I don’t know his true reaction because I literally threw it at him and ran.

See, I had worked up the courage to hand him the book, after the initial courage to ask him if he reads, and that was about it.  I was highly worried he’d think I was a freak.  I wasn’t prepared for him to actually be busy so not wanting to interrupt, and not wanting to stand and wait my turn in case I lost my nerve, I simply dropped it on the counter next to him, there was a note inside, and was back out the door.  Only, as I’m leaving, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it start flying across the counter headed towards the floor, because apparently this socially awkward, odd duck was less than gentle and didn’t simply place it on the counter.

Not knowing what to do in this situation, I did the only reasonable thing I could think of and ran, not making eye contact with anyone.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is simply me trying to make a friend.  You should see me when I’m actually trying to flirt.

So anyway, I went about my errands and spent that hour or so formulating in my head what to say to him, since I knew I had to go back, unable to leave it at that.  I needed to save face as much as possible as quickly as possible.

So I did my shopping and went back.

He was standing outside on his smoke break when I got back to the gas station an hour later.  I don’t know exactly what I said but it started out to the tune of apologizing for throwing the book, explaining that I’m a socially awkward odd duck (he laughed but not meanly), that was afraid he’d consider a freak,  and that I had kind of panicked.  I went on to explain what I’ve already told you, fine readers, about everyone getting something different out of the book, what I got, and what I thought he might get.  I worked in that I knew he was pretty laid back thanks to my brother-in-law, whom he also knows and is talkative with.  (Said brother-in-law is going to disown me for this stunt.)  So if he was paying attention and not simply praying to himself that I’d go away, he knows I’m married, which also hopefully means he knows this awkward display wasn’t me flirting.  I mentioned I’d like to get to know him, and kind of awkwardly hoped out loud that maybe we could get to be friends.

Then I bought a pepsi off him because at this point the least I could do was give him a sale.

One Comment

  1. Ping from puffyclouds:

    Good for you for your bravery!

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