Why I'm Still Single (Chronicle of an Awkward Two Days)

Have you ever known someone that’s just awkward? They don’t mean to be. They don’t want to be. They try NOT to be, but despite their best efforts, they just are. Folks, I am that someone. I am as awkward as the days are long. I used to see this awkwardness as a curse, but the longer I live with it, the more I’ve come to embrace it. Let’s be real, here. People like me make people who aren’t awkward laugh –and considering that I like to make people laugh, I think it’s worth it. 

Of course, being “wonderfully awkward” (as my friend described me) has its obvious disadvantages. Plus, I have this theory… I can’t believe I’m actually blogging about this, but why not?

Y’all, I am almost twenty, single, and (lately) worried about how I’m going to manage being a Crazy Cat Lady when I don’t like cats. I’ll probably just tweak it to Crazy Dog Lady to keep up with the awkward theme. That works, right?

Anyway, I used to spend a shameful amount of time trying to figure out why I’m almost twenty, single, and steadily compiling a list of my favorite dog breeds. However, this past week has been somewhat enlightening for me. Before I tell you what happened, I feel the need to explain something:

I get along great with guys. I have always had an abundance of guy friends. Always. When I was little, there were no other girls my age for me to play with, so I grew up with my fair share of toy tractors, toy horses, and incredibly complicated versions of what started out as “baseball.” Throughout middle school and high school, some of my best friends were guys and I spent the fall my senior year interning with the varsity football team. One of my best friends right now is a guy, so it’s not that I can’t handle myself around the male version of our species… It’s just that when one of them happens to be cute, or if I don’t know him very well, things get kind of strange.

 

With that out of the way, I will now present you with a detailed chronicle of my Enlightenment:

Wednesday, 12:00 noon, Cafeteria

I first see him as I am eating fake Chinese food from the hot bar. I’ll be honest. When I lay eyes on him, my immediate thought is, “Oh my gosh. He is ridiculously cute.” I also say something to that effect to my friend a few minutes later without realizing that Mr. Cutie is sitting right behind me. Problem #1. I don’t think he heard me. I sincerely hope not.

 

Wednesday, 1:00 PM, Last Class of the Day

I arrive to class less than one minute before it starts. It’s a bigger class than my others, so I’m still not sure who all is supposed to be here. When I find a seat, I look to my right to find that Mr. Cutie is sitting four seats over. I have a class with him and I just noticed him today? Seriously? During the presentation, I find myself glancing over at him from time to time. Okay. I am in no way “slick” and so within the next five minutes, I think he catches me looking at him. I don’t have a mirror at the moment, but judging by the way my face is burning, I’m pretty sure I resemble a pickled beet. Problem #2.

Wednesday, 2:00 PM, Sidewalk Behind the Literature Building

I survived the awkward encounter in my final class and am convinced that I can’t I possibly do any more damage to this situation before I get into my car and go home. Yeah, right. As I’m walking out to my car, I run into one of my friends. She’s on her way to work in the Writing Center and she wants me to come and sit with her so she doesn’t have to be alone for an hour. It seems that no one is aware that there’s a Writing Center at my college, and because I’m a nice person (see previous post for more details) I comply and she and I make our way up to the second floor of the Literature building to get the key to this mysterious Writing Center. As I wait on her, I look down from the balcony just in time to see Mr. Cutie coming through the glass doors. He happens to look up and sees me looking at him. Unfortunately, he falls under both categories of “cute” and “I don’t him very well,” so I get nervous and dart out of sight. I feel like I’m living a sitcom, right now. Problem #3.

Is anyone else beginning to see why I am almost twenty, single, and trying to decide between Shakespearean or Jane Austen names for my future canine companions?

I only wish this story was over, but it’s not.

 

Wednesday, 9:00 PM, In the Comfort of my Home

I find out that my best guy friend knows Mr. Cutie (except he doesn’t call him that) and has invited him to our FCA meeting tomorrow night. He promises to introduce me to Mr. Cutie and I am suddenly rather excited. In my excitement, I forget that I’m awkward around cute boys that I don’t know very well. Problem #4.

 

Thursday, 10:00 AM, Sidewalk Leading to the Cafeteria

I have a free hour and I’m done with  my massive Statistics book for the day. Best Guy Friend is waiting for me in the cafeteria, but I’m going to go out to my car and ditch the massive Statistics book before I go inside. I see Mr. Cutie at the door, but he goes inside. Good. No contact. I can’t screw that up. I start to go downstairs to the parking lot and I’m pretty sure I hear someone calling my name. I look over my shoulder, but no one is there –except Mr. Cutie, who has come back outside and sees me just as I look at him. I have a mini-panic attack  because he is so darn cute and run down the stairs. Problem #5.

Thursday, 7:00 PM, FCA Hot Dog Supper/Peanut Boil

I am a nervous wreck. Mr. Cutie is nowhere in sight, but I know that’s he going to pop up somewhere and surprise me like always. I want to eat, but I’m too nervous. He doesn’t show up. He doesn’t show up. He doesn’t show up. I finally assume that he’s not coming and decided to eat a hotdog. As I’m standing there, in the middle of my first bite, I look up and there he is. Mr. Cutie, himself. Best Guy Friend starts to introduce us and my blood pressure skyrockets. I forget to chew and suck the bite of hotdog down my throat. Not the bread, mind you. Just the hotdog. Thankfully, I’m not choking, but I can feel it going down. VERY SLOWLY. Problem #6. I’m about to have to say something, but there’s still the pesky bread in my mouth that I can’t swallow for fear of crossing over into actual choking mode. We all stand there in awkward silence until I break it with something stupid. Mr. Cutie just quirks his head adorably and I feel like I’m about to choke on pure air. I kind of want to revert to my previous methods of dealing with this guy and just run away, but I can’t very well do that this time. Too many people. Nowhere to run. We make small talk for a few minutes and the group disperses. Epic fail, Ashley. Epic fail.

 

Thursday, 9:00 PM, FCA Cleanup Time

Mr. Cutie is standing around talking while some of us are starting to clean up. He makes this charming little joke to which I, in a pitiful attempt to flirt, respond in a way that could be taken as an insult. Too bad I don’t think about this until after I say it. Problem #7. I get all disturbed (and I’m sure my face shows it) because of how mean I sounded, but he just laughs. I assume he took it the way I intended it and this makes me nervous, so I grab two folding chairs and run off to the trailer. I am officially an idiot. This is why I am almost twenty, single, and am soon going to start clipping coupons for Pedigree, Iams, and Milkbone products.

 

For the rest of the night, there is awkward contact here and there. I am simply incapable when it comes to cute males that I’m not used to. I think I should probably avoid the dating scene for a while. I’m just too awkward –and while my friends know that they can laugh without fear at my expense, I’m beginning to worry about myself. Why? Because I am almost twenty, single, and have decided that color coordinating collars are going to be absolutely precious on Darcy, Elizabeth, Bingley, Jane, Bennett, and Whickam...

I’m almost afraid to invite comments here, but what the heck? Go for it. ;)