I’m not awkward; I’m socially challenged: Part one

I once heard someone say, “My life is just a series of awkward moments separated by snacks.” There are no truer words to describe the life of Angie Mitchell. For anyone who knows me, my life is just that: a series of awkward moments separated by snacks. At 24, I have accepted this as an inevitable truth that will most definitely follow me for the rest of my life.

“My life is just a series of awkward moments separated by snacks.”

For as long as I can remember, presumably since the womb, my life has been one awkward moment after another. Literally. I cannot get through the day without an awkward encounter. I fall, a lot. I ugly cry, I snort when I laugh, I trip over everything, I spew when I drink, and I am generally the least graceful person you will ever meet.

As an awkward person, or socially challenged as I like to call it, I am constantly placed in situations that make me question how I have managed to survive for 24 years. Take today for an example, sitting in my supervisor’s office and I inform her my camera role is full of pictures. Like no shit, what else would it be full of? Burritos? I then proceed to leave said office and notice my pants have been unzipped for the entirety of the conversation. Luckily, she is great and finds my awkwardness endearing (and I don’t just say that because she’s my supervisor and will be reading this is the very near future).

“I was really intimidated by you at first because I thought you were the popular girl…but then I realized how awkward you are.” -Anonymous female to me in college

More often than not, I find myself in situations that would only happen to a socially challenged person like me, so much so that I began keeping a journal to document all of the awkward shit that happens to me. These are all true stories that I have directly experienced, most of them so incredibly awkward they could not be made up. With a list of over 40 incidents (and that’s only what I can think of off the top of my head), this is the first series of awkward, and PG rated, Angie moments.

Is this seat taken?

Picture this, there I am on a beautiful summer’s day, sitting in Central Park reading a self-help book and listening to Enya. It’s peaceful. Not many people around, I find a quite bench overlooking the water and Gapstow Bridge. Deep in thought and lost in Enya’s “Only Time,” my peacefulness is abruptly interrupted by a petite Asian woman sitting on me. That’s right, ass to lap contact was made. She stands up, does not say a word, moves to her right, and proceeds to sit directly next to me, so close that our legs continued touching. A dozen empty benches and clearly my lap was the best choice. Awkward.

Rush hour

My workday begins every day at approximately 5:30am. Realistically it’s closer to 6 after I lay in bed for at least 30 minutes contemplating if it’s really necessary to get out of bed. One morning recently I got off to a late start. I threw on a pair of cropped slacks (too lazy to shave my legs of course), rushed out the door, and embarked on my daily hour and a half commute. As I neared the always lovely 6 station, I could hear the train approaching. Great. I grabbed my metro card from my pocket and proceeded to run down the stairs to catch the train as it entered the station. Not great. Halfway down the stairs, I felt a nice airy breeze only to find my slacks now down by my knees. Ass out for all of Manhattan’s rush hour crowd to feast their eyes upon. Definitely awkward.

Excuse me ma’am

I have a bit of an unhealthy obsession with nail polish, and like every nail polish lover, I like to test the colors in the store before I buy them. On one particular occasion, I made a pit stop to Duane Reade to pick up some new red nail polish. Like always, I opened the bottle, painted one nail, and proceeded to the check out counter. On this day, I had a few errands to run. I grabbed my new purchases from Duane Reade and went on with my day, doing laundry, and hitting up a few more stores. At one of my last stops of the day (several hours later), I am stopped by a kind woman coming towards me at Fairway. She looked at me, grinned, and proceeded to say “excuse me ma’am, you have something on your face.” Confused, I bring out the front facing camera on my cell phone to find a giant red stripe of bright red nail polish stroked across my right cheek. Awkward.

Like a true New Yorker

I like to joke that I became a true New Yorker the day I fell asleep on the subway for the first time. Now, like clockwork, I fall asleep every single time I ride the D…train. Too many sexual jokes to be made. A few weeks ago, I boarded the train on my way to work and settled into my seat, fully prepared for my 32 minute nap. Like always, I passed out instantly, resting my head comfortably against the pole behind me. 32 minutes later, my alarm went off and I woke up from my catnap only to discover the pole I had been resting my head against was not a pole but in fact a man’s head. Thanks for the nap kind sir. Very awkward.

The Good Samaritan

I’d like to think I’m a generally pretty nice person. Sometimes. I smile at passerbyers, I give up my seats to the elderly, and hold the door for strangers… occasionally. One day earlier this summer, I was feeling particularly nice and decided to hold the door for a group of older women who were heading into the Starbucks I was leaving. Like the kind human being I am, I extended my arm and held the door as the group of 5 or 6 women passed by, smiling all the while. Just as the last women passed by, my arm slipped off the door and proceeded to punch her directly in the face. Both of us stunned, I apologized profusely and ran away into the streets. Awkward.

Word vomit

As the awkward human that I am, I tend to say awkward things on a daily basis…and then immediately identify the awkwardness that just ensued. This is a brief collection of some of the awkwardness that has come from my mouth in the recent months. The time I asked if a patient was in an incubator…the time I asked what language they spoke in England…the time I asked if a dog could bark in French…the time I asked if mammography was the study of boobs…the time I asked my Jewish roommate what Chanukah was and proceeded to pronounce it as Ch-anukah…the time I asked a patient if she had a high school degree after she told me she has her masters…the time I replied “I’m fine” when a woman asked me if the bus stopped at 9th Avenue…and the time I thought Utah was the capital of Texas. All equally awkward and all equally embarrassing.

“The awkward moment between birth and death” -Instagram

More awkward encounters to come…

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