[ this photo has no real relevance to the story below, it just proves that at any given moment you can rely on me to bring the awkward to any situation. case in point, TP stuck to both shoes. nailed it. ]
Ever since watching the Oscars on Sunday night I’ve had the “we saw your boobs” song stuck in my head. Seriously, for a full 64 hours it’s been on a loop in my brain. Which is annoying but up until yesterday had caused me no emotional or psychological harm. But oh yes, yesterday that little ditty sneakily crept its way out of my brain via my mouth as I unconsciously began singing it under my breath while waiting for my latte at a coffee shop. I honestly didn’t realize I was doing anything until I looked over to see the (cute) coffee shop boy, holding my drink and looking at me in that inquisitive, head-tilted, squinty-eyed kinda way. So I was caught completely off guard when he asked what the song was that I had been singing. That’s when I realized what I had just happened.
And then things got weird.
To be honest, I’m not really sure whether he was just fulfilling his friendly coffee shop worker duties or if he had actually heard me singing about breasts, but for whatever reason I was stumped for an answer to his question. Like couldn’t speak. I think there was a solid 7 seconds of pure silence… which is a really long time to just not answer someone. And the whole time I’m all, use your words ohmygod just use ANY words holy hell this is embarrassing, in my head. Of course around 6.3 seconds, (not as cute) coffee shop boy #2 came in to join the fun of what will forever be known as the Most Amazing Conversation in the World (MACW, for short). So I now have two dudes staring at me, probably wondering why I’m making squeaky noises at them and now my right eye is twitching and my shoulder is involuntarily jerking towards my face and I’m fairly certain I smell burnt toast which can only mean I’m in the early stages of having a heart attack. (I’m sure most of this only happened in my head but it’s absolutely what I envision they’re seeing as they watch me verbally deteriorate in front of their eyes.)
Ordinarily funny/weird things are my jam… but for some reason, the thought of telling these (cute) strangers that I was singing a song about boobs made me so uncomfortable that I turned 50 Shades of Red* and after probably a solid minute of pure tortuous silence, I finally mumbled something about Josh Groban (yah, what? nice save), grabbed my latte and with the highest degree of awkwardness, walked away. But of course that wasn’t enough. MACW had left me so so flustered that my legs had turned to jelly and as I was walking away I caught the toe of my shoe on the floor and spilled a bunch of my drink. But I just kept going. And to torture myself just a little bit more, I turned around at the door to see one of the dudes still staring at me, likely wondering what kind of crack I had smoked that morning, while the other one was reaching for a paper towel to clean up my spillage. There was no way I could bring myself to go back and help though, for fear that I would most certainly light myself on fire or get a nose bleed if I attempted one more second of human interaction.
So, yah… That happened. It’s safe to say I won’t be going back there anytime soon/ever.
Apparently it’s just not the Thompson’s week for having socially acceptable behavior. First Gus, now me. Casey is on a work trip so I think he’s in the clear, although if he’s anything like me then he’s probably just one mouth-fart-noise away from making someone uncomfortable.
Welp, on that note, see ya! PFFFFT.
* 50 Shades of Red will likely be the name of my personal memoir. No relation to 50 Shades of Grey except that it will inevitably include the F word, perhaps just in a different context.