As I walked down the stairs in the JFSB (four flights, to be precise), the air smelled increasingly like dirty feet. Explain this.
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My professor mentioned today that he likes to compliment the parents of every baby he sees..."my, what a lovely baby you have." Why babies? Why do the requirements for loveliness get so demanding as we grow? Cause we all know there are some ugly babies out there (none of yours, of course), and yet, being a baby is enough for us to overlook the way they look.
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The Harold B. Lee library is out to get me. Or at least reveal to me my social-ineptitude. I roll up to the fifth floor, hoping to get my study on, and find my first obstacle: choosing a table. Do I sit at a table with only one empty seat--cozy, but presumptuous? Do I sit at a table with two seats taken on one side, and two seats open on the other, throwing off the balance of the universe? Do I sit at a table with one person on each side, forcing me to choose which party I sit by? Do I sit at a table with one other person, and do I sit next to, across from, or diagonal from this person, and what does each choice imply? And if I am choosing to sit at a table with people already there, do I pick the one with the most attractive boys (also presumptuous) or the least threatening girls?
(If you're curious, I chose the completely empty table.)
But upon choosing, my trouble is not over.
My social conscience cannot rest, because now I have to wonder what to make of who does or doesn't sit by me. "I've been sitting here alone now for 20 minutes. People continue to walk past, finding seats, and yet, not at my table. Do I smell? Am I scary-looking? Are they trying to tell me something?" Finally a boy approaches my table, pulls out the chair next to me, and asks if he can borrow it to sit at another full table. Awesome. Not only do you not want to sit by me, you want to anti-sit by me--and prevent others from sitting by me. Then, insult to injury, a couple sits across from me, snoggling over their computers and playing footsie with me by mistake. Sweet.
6 comments:
Reading this was so funny that I got busted for not working. I started laughing and the girl next to me looked at me, and I had to say "Okay--I'm not working. I'm reading my friends blog and it's so funny!" But it was worth it. You're hysterical, and everything you said is so true. That's the closest I've felt to the HBLL in a long time!
I have been wondering about the baby comments. I hear the same things constantly, to me and to every bed surrounding us. Same script when mom or dad call on the phone for an update...I really have wondered if it was part of training and they were really given a scriptish list of options. If you're going for variations on a theme, you should just play footsie first and then see what they do. Who feels awkward now, huh? I just can't believe they were snoggling.
I have been following your blog for a little while now. I love it. There is too much truth in your table dilemma. Maybe next you can explain the complexities of standing in an elevator with a total stranger. To talk? Or not to talk? Face the door? Look at the buttons go 4-3-2-1... I could use some kind help in this area as I have an awkward moment in the elevator at least once per day. Then, what do you do when you and two OTHERS are in the elevator, the door opens, and someone insists on fitting IN the elevator, when truly, there's no room.
i am DYING right now. hilarious. call me:)
Did you coin the term "snoggling?" I like it.
I am laughing so hard right now. You're hilarious. I want to sit by you.
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