Ever errupt in giggles after you do something kind of silly and awkward, and then feel a tremendous need to admit just how awkward you were to anyone and everyone in a public forum?
Enter, having a blog.
So, last night I pretended to know someone on the bus (who thought they knew me)
because I was too afraid of hurting their feelings if I acknowledged that I did not,
in fact, have any clue who they were.
Or worse, see their cheeks blush pink with embarrassment
as they realized that they had waved down a complete stranger.
So instead, I thought the smartest thing to do would be to 'channel' this person they were mistaking me for.
I don't know how I get myself in these situations, but I do.
At one point, I tried to inch my way to the back of the bus
and remove myself from the conversation- I really did.
But, I must graciously thank you, Goddess of Awkward Scenarios,
you arranged for the woman sitting next to the girl on the bus
to get up right as I tried to pop my headphones back in and excuse myself.
Oh, the tangled web you weave!
So there I was, nodding along in conversations about my charming boyfriend,
(don't have one)
and swapping stories about our weekends in Tahoe,
(have yet to go)
giggling about the party a few weeks back,
(pretty sure my best friend was visiting and I most certainly, was not, at a party)
and trying to ask generic, yet slightly personal questions
that might lead me to a clue- an inkling- of who this girl was.
You just moved, right?
Sure, I felt uncomfortable... but, wait a tick! This is kind of like a conversational scavenger hunt!
What sentence would lead me to the next clue? What fun fact could I unearth next?
I was just settling into my new persona when it happened.
The realization swept over her face as if she'd seen a ghost.
She quickly looked down and fidgeted with her phone.
The conversation ceased.
It got quiet.
Crickets, people. Crickets.
My face turned hot and I started racking my brain for something, anything, to talk about.
Why, why,why from the beginning did I not just dismiss her wave with a friendly, "Oh no, I think you have the wrong person?"
After what felt like hours, we approached her stop and as she excused herself to get up,
I hung onto my last piece of pride and squealed, "It was so good to bump into you again!"
I'll admit it.
I kind of felt like a creep for going along with it.
But, I don't think I'd change my instincts.
I could've coldy stared past her.
But then she'd be wondering all night why the girl she thought she knew, was so icy and mean.
That'd be terrible, people!
So yes, I maintain that you always, always,
get more with honey
than with vinegar.
Even if it leaves you feeling a little batty.