So.
I totally got chatted up by a guy at institute tonight.
The only problem is that I think he needs to be on some kind of medication. And isn't.
And I feel a strange mixture of guilt and relief at telling you about this. Because I feel terrible talking about him like this. But I also want to share with you this experience of almost being asked out by a guy who really. Really. Is out there. And how I tried to get away after about a fifteen-minute conversation by indicating that I needed to talk to my roommate. But it didn't work. Because he just kept on going.
And then how this tall, dark-haired guy with an awesome accent asked me to open the gym door for him so he could roll a round table into the little storage closet. And how this new nice (and not-crazy) guy started asking me questions about myself. And how I wanted to talk to him more. Because he seemed awesome. And nice. And good-looking. And not crazy. But how my encounter with not-all-there boy had kind of made me want to retreat very quickly into the kitchen and away from any possibility of encountering said not-all-there boy so I kind of had to cut the conversation with nice non-crazy boy short.
Which just makes me grit my teeth.
So. While discussing above experience with my roommate, we realized that we had no plan in place to help one another out of situations like this. My roommate, in her wisdom, decided on A Plan.
And The Plan is that 'Cheetos' is the code word for: 'Get me out of here now because there is no way I can gracefully extricate myself from this situation and I need to be extricated so desperately that my toes are about to curl into my ankles.'
So now we know. And will be prepared.
And let me tell you: I think being prepared is more than half the battle.
4 comments:
You know, I was just at a party where I thought a girl needed help getting out of a situation. But I didn't quite know how, and she ended up leaving, and I felt bad. Then the boy that had cornered her (who is my age) spent the rest of the evening with my friend's little sister. Who is thirteen. Talk about ick.
Beth, thanks for the laugh. I needed that. :D
Good luck with the awesome-accent and non-crazy guys. Ah, the joys of institute.
My dear, Hearing about this encounter made me feel so sad. Sad that people who are not quite balanced are so difficult to deal with, especially when you feel real compassion for them, but the whole thing is just awkward. Sad that being single is such hard work. (Well...so is being married, but a whole different kind of hard work!) Sad that you did not get to make friends with interesting accent man. But also proud of you for hanging in there. So, yeah, sad and proud. And also, strangely,(Or probably not so strangely, really craving Cheeto's.
There's one of those in every singles ward I think. Luckily I had him pointed out to me before I got cornered in this ward and I have sucessfully steered clear.
But, the singles ward in my hometown had this guy named (deleted for his protection) that must have worn really quiet shoes because he would always just appear right next to you and take over whatever conversation you were in. So I was nervous when he appeared the second time, but he didn't remember that we had met before....he didn't remember the 3rd, 4th, 5th, etc. times either. So I was eventually releived that while each encounter may be awkward, it was not the beginning of a long crazy boy story. I'm sure that the "Cheetos" Plan will help you avoid such a sad tale as well!
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