In Which I Redefine the Word "Awkward"

You know, every once in a while I get it into my head that I am a capable, intelligent conversationalist who conducts herself with poise and grace in all social situations.

That is entirely incorrect. 

Details below.

Last week, I posted about my decision to end this anti-social cycle of hermit-dom via signing up for OK Cupid, and wouldn't you know it, but I actually got some attention due to the fact that I'm awesome (Finally, SOMEbody other than me sees it!).

The date (we'll call him Internet Guy for now) and I decided something low-key would be best, so a late-night coffee shop close to downtown was our chosen venue.

Why, yes, I do have sex on the first date.
Why do you ask?

All in all, I think we had a good time. I had a good time anyway... I'd like to think Internet Guy felt the same. There wasn't any of that uncomfortable, "uh, what do I say next" sort of silliness, and we found that we actually have quite a lot in common. For example (this is important for later), we both rather enjoy the Evil Dead series. Put one notch on the "Pro" side of our Pro/Con chart for Internet Guy.

We ended up talking about anything and everything from around 8:30pm until just after midnight (not too shabby), and it probably would have gone on longer if I had not had work early the next morning.

You'd think at this point that I was home free, that I had braved the frightening world of First Date Land with marginal success, but no... There was still the walk to the car and the goodbye, and my personal brand of Awkward had not yet reared its ugly head.

Internet Guy walked me to my car, and we hugged goodbye. As we pulled away, I took a short step back and said, "Hey, if you want to go see the new Evil Dead movie, give me a call."

He responded with a dashing smile. "I would really like that." Flutter flutter goes the heart.

So what's my response? You'd think I'd just leave it at that, say goodbye, get in my car, and drive away. But no. Ohhhhh, no.

There was hesitation. Was a kiss coming? Were we going to hug again? Do I just get in my car and leave? What in the fresh hell do I do?? Well, the Awkward saw its chance and took it without hesitation. Suddenly, I felt my hand raising into the air. Good gravy, what was I doing? Was I going to hit him?? Thankfully, the Awkward didn't have physical violence in mind, but it wasn't much better than that. I ended up giving him a high-five.

A HIGH-FREAKING-FIVE.
Liz Lemon is my spirit animal.
The Awkward had taken over my body, laughing maniacally in my head as I - the sane, non-awkward victim - desperately tried to stop it. No, I screamed in my head, not a high-five!!! But it was already done. He reacted well and smiled as he kind of grabbed my hand in a semi-pitying hand hug ("This poor girl..."), and I felt my face flush.

I whispered a quick "good bye," retreated to my car with my tail in between my legs, and drove home in despair. It had gone so well up to that point... And then the Awkward had to step in. That damned Awkward... It will be the death of me.

I'd like to say that's the end of it, but you guys know me. It's never that simple.

In the Awkward's ever-growing wisdom, it decided to take over my body once again when I got home and post the following Facebook status:

"I really should work on the fact that I'm terribly awkward all the freaking time...
At least it makes for good stories down the line?"

One of my friends commented that it was probably not as bad as I had perceived, and the Awkward continued to explain in the comments section, "How about giving someone a high-five at the end of a first date? Keepin' it classy, Stef. So many facepalms are happening right now."

Apparently, the Awkward had forgotten (or just didn't care) that Internet Guy and I had friended each other on Facebook. 

The Awkward strikes again.

Needless to say, he saw the post, and I woke up the next morning to this text:

"For the record, I kind of liked the high five."

Put another notch on the "Pro" side of our Pro/Con chart for this guy. He is handling this very well. Mad props to you, Internet Guy.

Not only that, but he asked me out again, so it would seem that I did something right. Or maybe he just wants another laugh... hah.

All of that being said, he'll probably read this as well (my blog is tied to my Facebook account via Networked Blogs, and it automatically posts a status update when I've published a new blog post), but I'm fairly certain that he'll find it amusing if he reads it at all. So, if you're reading this, Internet Guy, I had a lovely time, and thank you for not making me feel like a complete and utter dipshit when the Awkward momentarily controlled my actions.

Does anyone else have issues with their Awkward? Is it as difficult to control as mine? Is it worse? Leave me a comment, and tell me all about it!

Peace.
Stef.

Comments

Jeff Evans said…
I have issues with the awkward. Still kicking myself fifteen years after missing some pretty obvious signals from someone I was keenly interested in. Though mine aren't funny, just sad. Yours was cute and he got a good chuckle out of it, it sounds like. So far, so good, I'd say!

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