Monthly Archives: August 2011

Pssst…Wanna Know a Secret? I’m Awkward Pretty Much all The Time and Have Anecdotes to Prove it:


Such as:

…That time I went to an open mic night and played to a cardboard cut out of elvis.

…That time I went to a bar and got hit on by a guy who’s pick-up line was “Is that guy your boyfriend or brother?”  The honest answer was “neither.”  I should have said “both.” and walked away.  What I said was “brother.”  But it was OK…the guy walked away anyway…only to come back to try again.  and take himself out of the game by declaring I was too young (After I had told him I really did have a boyfriend. It just wasn’t the guy he thought it was)

…That time my professor called me closed minded for not being open to cannibalism, and he expected more of me because I am obviously very liberal.  Never mind the fact that I never told him I’m liberal.  I don’t discuss politics.  Ever.  He explained that it’s obvious.  (I think this story proves that science professors are incredibly strange and frightening more than anything but it’s a good story…)

…That time I had a meeting with my advisor regarding my senior project and he kept sniffing the air only to break down and ask “Do you smell fish?”  and I had to explain that it was me because I had come from my job as a lab assistant and had just finished washing the shark dissection trays.  He apologized and admitted he only asked because he thought it was him.  I’m not really sure why he would smell like fish…

…That time I realized it is never acceptable to smell like fish even if you have a legitimate explanation.  (See above)

…That time our entire class debated what the best tasting human would be and unanimously agreed that it would have to be vegetarian babies. (There is actually logic behind this conclusion)  BTW this class was run by none other than the “closed-minded” cannibal professor…are you sensing a them?  (He was actually one of my favorite professors)

…That time I drank an absinthe cocktail (no wormwood just incredibly strong alcohol) on an empty stomach before playing my first solo gig and I had to stop half way through to go pee.

…That time I accused someone of getting a spice girls song stuck in my head  because he had been humming it, and he looked at me like I was on acid and very earnestly said “I wasn’t humming anything…” (Pretty sure it was spice up your life)

…That time I was discussing the weather with a toothless man at the bus stop and he interrupted himself mid-sentence to say “by the way you’re very beautiful.”  That’s not even the awkward part.  The awkward part was when I said “thank you” and he replied “Don’t thank me.  Thank your parents.”

…That time I wrote a really creepy song for my friend about being stalked but secretly stalking your stalker, and I played it for him for the first time in the back of a VW bug.

…That time I caught a gay boy and a straight girl in serious conversation about my breasts…and when I realized what was happening the gay boy broke down and very tormentedly admitted “I don’t even like boobs but I just can’t look away.”  BTW, can I just say if I ever doubted the power of boobs, I didn’t after that night.

…That time a guy at an open mic night asked me and my female friend (who also sings) if we knew of any girls who could do some background vocals for him, and when we said “hello!?  us!”  he responded “oh…well I really need some singers with a lot of soul.”  We took it in stride. Our very mature reaction was to stomp up and down and loudly whine “we have soul!! WE HAVE SOUL!!!”

…That time a guy at the same bar was hitting on me and that same friend and was asking a lot of very personal questions, such as the year we were born, and an old ex-roadie saved us by interrupting with an anecdote about how he was pretty sure he had been tripping on acid that year, but he can’t really recall…

…That time we (same friend-KT) were on our way to our first open mic night and got a flat tire.  Several men stopped and attempted to help us change the tire by kicking it.  The AAA guy finally came and mocked us by removing the tire in two seconds.  Then we had to go to my house and get my car because the spare tire was also flat…and we got to the open mic in time to play one song to the bartender and guy running the open mic.

…The time I developed a strange person-crush on the guy who ran an open mic and went very fan-girl one day when I saw him for the first time outside of the bar we played at.  And I loudly yelled “Oh my gawd it’s *Henry!

…That time I wore a corset out to a goth night with friends and my male friend approached me and very seriously asked “Do you know what motor boating is?”  I said yes.  He grinned and walked away.

…That time I was at a bar with E (we were dating at the time) and I watched him get hit on by two very drunk, very spazzy girls, and I laughed the whole time.  Then later explained to him that he was being hit on because he was completely oblivious.  (Remind me to tell this story in depth another time-It’s very amusing.  It includes E very determinedly saying “excuse me I’m trying to work” while pushing two drunk, scantly glad girls out of his way as they tried to grind on him (literally on him…they were far too drunk for personal boundaries)

…That time a wrote a nearly 1,000 word post only using real stories about how awkward I am and starting all of them with “…That time”


*This name changed as a half-ass attempt to protect my ego in case he ever reads this blog


That Time I Did That Thing And It Was Stupid


Also known as:  That Time I Did That Thing And I Was Excruciatingly Awkward

Sooooo many stories come to mind…

Some of my favorites occurred while I was living in Chicago.

These stories require some set up (I apologize in advance)

I was living in Chicago for a summer for an unpaid internship and working at a pizza shop 12 hours a week for minimum wage (because that’s all they would give me), subletting a room in someones condo whom I met on craigslist.

This isn’t the stupid part yet.  I swear.  The craigslist roommate/live in landlady thing actually worked out.  She owned her own cookie company and had two awesome dogs. (Apparently, those are my requirements.)

I really didn’t know many people in Chicago except for a friend of a friend, I’ll call him E for  now (E is now my boyfriend of two years, which is an entirely different, complicated story).

E and I would hang out (when he remembered I lived in Chicago, which was when I would text him to ask if I could come hang out because I was bored.)  Generally, I would come over to eat (or shower during the agonizing two weeks that the gas was shut off and I was living with cold showers and no way to cook-again another story for another day.)  Occasionally, E and I would meet up and play an open mic somewhere.  We did hang out quite a bit, but it was pretty sporadic during the beginning of the summer.  As I said, E often forgot I lived in the same city as him.

During the early bit of my time in Chicago I realized I could not sit around in my bedroom and mope because I am not enough of a hermit to tolerate myself alone that often.  So began the adventures of trying to find an open mic night to play.  The bigger battle was forging past my anxiety and pretty extreme awkwardness in any new situation.

Fortunately, my determination (and alcohol tolerance) are stronger than my social inadequacies.

On one of my epic adventures,  I set out to play an open mic I had tried to play (and failed) several times before.  This time I meant business.  I was actually of legal drinking age and there was no way they could kick me out before I got to play. And I actually knew how to get there this time.  So those prior obstacles were out of the way.

On the bus, I noticed a boy-type person relatively my age and made a bet with myself that he was going to the same bar I was.  I thought I won the bet when we got off at the same stop.  Then I was sure I had lost when we walked in opposite directions.  Then realized I had won after all when I got inside the bar and he was already there sitting at a table.

Now this bar was Irish-themed, and had the amazing incentive of free food during their open mic night.  The catch being you had to buy something.  I settled on a $5 pitcher of relatively good beer (cheap for Chicago.)  Yes. I bought a pitcher of beer.  For myself.

To paint the picture imagine a 5’2″ girl, looking awkward, all by herself, with a huge pitcher of beer and no one to share it with.

Yeah.  Giggle.  It’s OK.  I do all the time.  It get’s sillier.  Starting now…

Bus Boy was sitting at a table alone, equally awkward looking, with his own pitcher of beer!  Alas, I thought I will ask to sit with him because, surely, two awkward strangers drinking beer will be much less awkward if one invites herself to drink with the male counterpart!! Great idea, right!?!  No!  Wrong!  Very bad idea!

Basically it went like this:

Me (holding a pitcher of beer and pint glass):  Can I sit here, with you, at this table…

Bus Boy (we’ll call him BB from here on out):  OK

Me (After placing my precious cargo on the table):  Hi, I’m Kristy.

BB:  Hi I’m K***

15 minutes of silence

Me (In my head):  OK this whole socially awkward thing is a killer and this was obviously an awful idea but I’m here, and he’s here, and I already bought this beer, and we are ignoring each other and paying an exorbitant amount of attention to our respective adult beverages.  (Mind you, I didn’t have the internet on my phone at the time.  Or apps. How did I ever live without Words With Friends, Mine Sweeper, and You Tube?)  How the hell am I supposed to cope with this situation.  Oh I know!  Let me play the ever so popular, “let’s see who can drink their pitcher faster” game but not tell my opponent we are competing.

I swear I was half a glass ahead of him, but there was a 15 minute time-period when I was on stage playing music, so BB caught up with me (Curses!)

So then I was playing the even more popular and ill-advised “let’s catch up” game.  I returned to my seat and we continued to ignore each other, except now we were also shoveling free corned beef hash into our faces along with our beer.

Finally he got up to get more delicious free food and spoke to me.  He said “hey, don’t drink my beer.” and walked away…Now, I could take him seriously or take this as a joke and make a joke back.  Considering I had about half a pitcher left (as did he), and I was feeling less edgy (due to drinking half a pitcher in a brief time span) I decided to joke.  He came back to the table and the conversation resumed:

Me:  How big of an alcoholic do you think I am?

BB:  Well, you do have an entire pitcher to yourself…

Me (head tilted and quizzical expression):  uhhh…so do you…

After that it was easier.  We broke the ice.  It took some alcohol and pseudo-judgmental banter but we did it!  I later discovered that he majored in clarinet performance in college (as did my best friend at the time) and he graduated with the guy who ran another open mic I went to on Mondays (the current day was Sunday).  We unofficially agreed to meet up the next night at that open mic night (where I realized our ease of conversation was more due to the alcohol than anything resembling a comfort level between us).  We never saw each other again after that Monday but I did witness him playing the clarinet with his nose…so it was worth it.

Oh, and I totally won the “who can finish their beer faster” game.

What can I say?  I’m oddly competitive at games only I know I’m playing.