The Pretzel Store

I actually don’t know why I am so awkward. It’s a gift I suppose; it just comes to me naturally. I’m not joking either. I am seriously, actually known as the most awkward person ever among my peers. My mind just processes that way, and if you can learn to appreciate it it really is a beautiful thing.

                A common example: A few weeks ago I was at the mall with my sister (well, ok, and my parents)… We went to the pretzel store to buy one of those magically soft and salty pretzels. A seemingly simple and easy feat for the average 19 year old. But the cashier was one of those greasy teenage boys who act like simply being alive is so exhausting they have to move at the pace of a lethargic snail and mumble everything under their precious unwasted breath.

                So being wary of potentially awkward situations (I have a radar), when I finished paying and he went to give me my change, I immediately foresaw an awkward hand clasp. You know when making a transaction of any form, there are about 2 seconds when your hands will unnecessarily touch around the money being transferred and make the whole situation strained with undissipated tension? Well I wanted to avoid that at all costs considering my cashier was a mid-pubescent and already awkward enough developing lad, so instead of taking the proffered dollar bill, I held out my hand so he could humbly place it in my palm and back off slowly. Thankfully, he took the hint and did the first part, however after the bill was upon my hand, an impossible little gust of wind came out of nowhere and blew the dollar bill off my hand.

                That was a devastating moment for both of us. Doubly as wary of an impending hand clasp, I refrained from picking up the dollar bill from the counter, as he would probably try to do the same and then we would be weirdly touching hands at a pretzel store in the mall, and where would that leave us? I don’t even want to think about it.

                I was right in my prediction of his unpremeditated actions and watched with resigned despair as he picked up the bill and painfully slowly placed it gently back on my stupid, unmovable hand. Of course, my sister being who she is, couldn’t hold back her loud and hilarious laughter at the whole situation, and once she started I couldn’t either. Oh, we tried. I mean, we were standing directly in front of this poor awkward boy, openly and obviously laughing at his apparent stupidity, which was actually the result of my actions. Or lack thereof. But it was useless. I’m sure we ruined his self esteem for that day. I tend to do that.

                But it was funny.