It was the kind of occasion where somewhere, deep down, you know heard other person correctly: but it was just so damned weird that you didn't believe your own ears.
"Sorry, what?" I asked the barista.
"I said, 'do you dance like black women?'" he said, quirking a suggestive eyebrow at me.
My problem is that I'm immune to flirting, which has two main downsides. If a nice guy flirts with me, I only see it as "banter" and banter right back, but not in the right way- causing the nice guy to "take the hint" (that wasn't even there because I was so clueless) and give up, and me to kick myself about five hours later when I realise I was being flirted with. That's the first downside. The second downside is that a not-so-nice guy will take it too far, and I won't realise what's happening until it gets to that point- resulting in time being wasted and me being marginally ticked off.
I walked into the coffee shop this morning and asked for a flat white.
"Alright," he said. "But I gotta warn ya... it's either going to be in this cup, or this one." He indicated to a large cup and an espresso shot cup.
"Uh, aren't flat whites just regular? I'm pretty sure you don't shoot one, either" I grinned, assuming he was just trying to be funny.
"Just kidding, large it is. Wait, what did you order? Oh, a flat white. That'd be regular then."
I smiled and handed the change over, while the barista got to work.
"You look kind of stressed, you having a bad day?"
I blinked. (Here we go, I thought, we have a conversation artist... alright, just be polite, Tash). "No..? I'm quite happy, actually."
"It's just that you look sort of tired."
(Wait a minute, I thought, is he trying to 'neg'* me??)
"Then I've come to the right place," I laughed, brushing it off.
"So, do you work around here?"
"Oh... no. Just passing through the area."
"Don't you have work today?" He asked.
"No, no work for me on Sundays. I'm just on my way to dance class."
"Oh, what kind of dance do you do?"
"K-Pop. Korean pop, that is."
And then he said it.
"So do you dance like black women, then?"
Honestly my brain just switched off when I asked him to repeat what he'd just said. It was clear he didn't have a clue what K-pop was (which is fair enough), but that statement literally just came out of the blue. It was a particularly random statement to make– especially since I'm as pale as milk. The worst thing about it was the appraising up-and-down look he was giving me. I pretended not to notice.
"I'm not sure what you mean. Um, it's more street-style?" I added, helpfully.
"Right, right," he said. He then proceeded to hand me my coffee, holding it out of my reach for a few seconds while asking me to try the coffee there and then on the spot. He tried to make me promise that if he'd made a bad coffee he'd make me another one for free.
I made a wild grab at the hovering coffee cup. "I'm sure it'll be fine, thank you!" I more or less ran off.
The coffee was terrible: I threw it away. I didn't go back.
*Negging: the practice of giving someone a very mild insult while acting friendly, sometimes in the hope that they'll subconsciously want your approval.
Showing posts with label being single. Show all posts
Showing posts with label being single. Show all posts
Sunday, 15 March 2015
Wednesday, 14 January 2015
The Christmas Cake Conundrum
In Japan, there's a rather cruel term for single girls over the age of 25: Christmas cakes.
Why?
Because nobody wants Christmas cake after the 25th of December. But wait, it gets even better: beyond the 25th, those leftover Christmas cakes are left on the shelf, slowly rotting and becoming more undesirable by the minute.
Yeesh...
I quietly turned 27 in October 2014. I say quietly: there was a lot of cake and lots of friends and foam bananas (I can't believe I didn't write about that: long story short, my amazing colleagues bought me a kilo of giant foam banana sweets). I didn't really acknowledge my birthday on this blog though, even though I did document the birthday cake I made on Tashcakes! When I turned 25 I had a mild panic about my existence on this planet and basically had a short existential crisis, and at 26 I legally became a Lady of the Highlands (sort of). 27? A mild bit of panic again, although not as much as when I turned 25- only because it feels like I truly am on the wrong side of 25, now. No going back, of course. Only forwards, forwards, forwards.
I certainly don't feel 27 though, and apparently I don't like it either. I constantly get mistaken for a university student. Or, in the case of two weeks ago at the supermarket, even younger.
I help my mum do the food shop on most Saturday mornings, so the regular checkout ladies and gents will often recognise me with her and say hi. Two weekends ago, however, we were served by a kindly lady we'd never met before. All three of us were chatting about the Christmas and New Year period, when the checkout lady suddenly turned to me and said:
"And what about you, when do you go back to school?"
I blinked, not sure if she was joking.
"Or, er- college, is it?" She ventured. I laughed.
"Actually, I work now- but thank you for thinking I'm young enough to pass as a student!"
This made me feel at least a little better about myself (and also confirmed that people's reactions are of genuine surprise when they find out my age). My slightly inflated ego certainly had a pin put to it this evening though: I visited my regular bubble tea shop after dance class, and chatted a bit to the (cute) guy behind the counter. He handed me my bubble tea- I said thanks and have a nice evening- and then it happened.
"You too, ma'am."
... Ma'am?
Of course it didn't mean anything- what else should he have called me? (Except for nothing at all, grrr...) Alas, my overactive brain was thinking about it all the way down the road to the station. I thought, 'I know I look a bit tired from a long day of work and a bit worn out from dancing for two hours, but I don't look that bad, do I? Oh no, do I actually look older this evening? Have I finally passed my "sell by" date??' I drowned my sorrows in sweet tea and tapioca.
Most of my friends are married or about to be married, and some even have children now. All met their Significant Others at university or just after. The closest I've come to romance after university was being stalked by someone who I thought was a friend and grabbed at by a rickshaw driver. As for online dating, forget it, I'm nowhere near ready for that level of crazy: I have my few single friends to keep me entertained with their horrifying stories for the time being. To be honest though, when I ask myself if I actually need to be in a relationship and it if would improve my life, I have to answer: nah, not really. It's just a bit disorientating when old friends reach new milestones in life and you're, well, not. Then again, one person's progress is another person's stumbling block.
It's not really fair to put a "sell by" date on people, in any case. We are people, after all, not cake. Then again, think about Christmas cakes a little harder: they're steadily fed with alcohol to mature over years, so they just get better and better over time. Perhaps we should be taking this second metaphor a little more seriously than the initial one.
(Possibly including the part about the alcohol.)
Monday, 12 August 2013
Self-Marketing: A Case Study with a Surprise
Everyone has different facets of their personality. At least, people are rarely two-dimensional, and there are lots of things that make you, well, you. However, I believe everyone has a facet that they put out there as their main USP for the world to judge them with. It's hard for me to determine what my own main USP is, but my general geekiness is definitely one that I don't bother to suppress.
This weekend I managed to bust out two almost contrasting sides of myself, one day after another: the Geeky Dorky Girl (GDG), and the slightly rarer Sophisticated City Gal (SCG) . Where GDG has a shy, slightly bashful smile, is hesitant to meet your eyes and will suddenly become comically animated when you talk to her about sci-fi, Super Mario or fantasy, SCG is confident and collected with an easy laugh.
On Friday night I was SCG, and Saturday and Sunday I was GDG.
My friend Siu Yen came to visit me in London over the weekend, and we began by going to a cocktail bar on the Friday night. We both styled ourselves with nice-but-not-too-OTT dresses, tamed and styled our hair to enhance our natural looks (sleek and straight for Siu Yen, boho waves for me), and made our faces up with careful precision (again to suit our natural looks, because neither of us likes the heavy makeup look). Still, we were pretty polished, and looking at our best for the evening.
Siu Yen and I are both slightly dorky and cute but very intelligent, and we share a very similar sense of humour and way of thinking- but Siu Yen is a little more used to dressing up and partying in the more traditional sense than I am- don't get me wrong, I love doing girly stuff, but my time is more often taken up by nerdy things like conventions and visiting places. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see me all dolled up when we met for cocktails with another friend (that's how often I go the extra mile to look nice), and off we went to hit the bar.
The first person to try to strike up a conversation with me at the bar was a man old enough to be my father. I politely chatted with him without encouraging further questions until he moved on to rejoin his group of friends, and I turned to Siu Yen and lamented at how I only ever seem to attract much older guys (it certainly seems to be true, sometimes). However to my personal quiet relief, another guy started chatting to me, and he was more my age. Thank goodness it's not only older men that like the look of me, after all! I mean I know I'm awesome on the inside, but let's face it: in this unjust world, first impressions are everything. In any case, I wasn't interested, and after a few good-natured digs at each other's choices of drinks I re-grouped with my friends.
I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I was interested in the second guy, and I thought of how he'd probably run a mile as soon as he found out that beneath my charming, elegant exterior was hiding a slightly awkward supernerd who only properly styles her hair once every few months. I certainly found that the young professional guys during my social experiment pretty much eliminated me as a serious option the more they discovered how dorky I really am. On the other scale of things, when I'm 'off-duty' and just my normal slightly dorky self, there's still a professional,strong-willed and sharp person under that, too.
In any case, it gave me a bit of an always much-needed confidence boost. I often think that older men chat me up because they think I might be easier because I'm not as stunning as other girls in the room (I'm alright-looking, but I'm no classic Ten). It's nice once in a while when I get noticed by someone more my age in any case, even if on a selfish level because I'm not interested back. Anyway, at the end of the evening I took my SCG face off, brushed my immaculate SCG curls back into my hair's usual slightly fluffy shock of waves, and by the next day I'd morphed into GDG- my fallback facet.
I own quite a few nerdy T-shirts. A Big Bang Theory-themed one with the word 'BAZINGA' emblazoned on the front in large writing, a crossover one with some minions from Despicable Me carrying off the TARDIS, more than one My Neighbour Totoro T-shirt, one with the Thundercats logo, a pretty cool 3D effect from from Cyberdog... but my current favourite one is a picture of all the main characters of Marvel's The Avengers as cartoon cats. It's freaking adorable. This is what I wore on Saturday, with some cropped linen trousers and sandals. Not exactly 'hot girl material', but it was very me.
Ironically, I told Siu Yen about my theory about me getting more attention when I'm dressed up, but whenever I'm more like myself, no-one so much as glances in my direction. I noted how although I hate being the centre of attention and quite like vanishing into the crowd, I do feel kind of sad that the exterior of the 'real me' doesn't seem worth a bother. Does that mean that the interior that goes with it isn't worth a bother, too? That is of course ridiculous- but the problem of course is that you have to get to know me over time to realise there's more to me than that. It's the same for everybody- but alas, some people get a visual head start in life.
The irony of that conversation happened when Siu Yen and I went shopping, and I was paying for my stuff at the checkout of a semi-stylish high street store. The guy serving me at the counter glanced at my Avenger Cats T-shirt and quirked an eyebrow at me. I felt a little self-conscious, but stared back politely but defiantly. I assessed him quickly: gelled spiky hair, effortless smart-casual style, a slightly haughty stance- he probably didn't have a nerdy bone in his body.
"Nice shirt," he said, scanning the surprisingly) fashionable top I'd just bought.
"Thanks," I said, thinking he was being slightly sarcastic but deciding to play along as if he were being sincere. "Cats- awesome, Avengers- epic, can't go wrong!"
The guy grinned, and I suddenly felt slightly defensive.
"Sorry," I said, instantly mad at myself for apologising like I always do, "Super-geek."
He looked a little surprised, and then he said something that blew me away.
"Me, too. Marvel, games, Warcraft, love it."
Now I was the one judging a book by its cover. Great. Wait, Warcraft?
"World of Warcraft? I lost like, a good two years of my life to that game! I quit just before the Cataclysm expansion because I got bored of how long it took to get from level 75 to 80."
"Well I've lost eight years and counting, but I really got into it during the Wrath of the Litch King."
"That's when I started playing, but I got sick of waiting for the right gear to drop from bosses."
"I guess I got lucky, now I have three level 90 guys."
"Geeze that's dedication."
I was aware of Siu Yen grinning off to the side, a little non-plussed at the WoW talk having never played it. In the end I paid for my stuff, all the while chatting away about the nerdiest stuff ever, and left grinning like a lunatic. Finally, for once someone noticing the real (well, more genuine) me from the start! It felt amazing. Maybe I don't have to be SCG all the time to be taken seriously as a person. I spent the rest of the day in a great mood.
The next day, I came to the station with Siu Yen to see her off, wearing my BAZINGA top. When we were in the coffee shop, the girl behind the counter pointed to my T-shirt and said to me "amazing top, I LOVE that show! Where did you get it from?"
I was in a great mood that day, too.
So even I am guilty of judging people by the way they present themselves, and there are people out there that will notice me when I'm not all dolled up too. In which case, I should learn to look at people in a different way, and remember that there's more to people than what they put out there on the surface for the world to see. I know this. Everyone knows this. It's just hard to remember sometimes when you're wrapped up in your own world of facets.
This weekend I managed to bust out two almost contrasting sides of myself, one day after another: the Geeky Dorky Girl (GDG), and the slightly rarer Sophisticated City Gal (SCG) . Where GDG has a shy, slightly bashful smile, is hesitant to meet your eyes and will suddenly become comically animated when you talk to her about sci-fi, Super Mario or fantasy, SCG is confident and collected with an easy laugh.
On Friday night I was SCG, and Saturday and Sunday I was GDG.
My friend Siu Yen came to visit me in London over the weekend, and we began by going to a cocktail bar on the Friday night. We both styled ourselves with nice-but-not-too-OTT dresses, tamed and styled our hair to enhance our natural looks (sleek and straight for Siu Yen, boho waves for me), and made our faces up with careful precision (again to suit our natural looks, because neither of us likes the heavy makeup look). Still, we were pretty polished, and looking at our best for the evening.
Siu Yen and I are both slightly dorky and cute but very intelligent, and we share a very similar sense of humour and way of thinking- but Siu Yen is a little more used to dressing up and partying in the more traditional sense than I am- don't get me wrong, I love doing girly stuff, but my time is more often taken up by nerdy things like conventions and visiting places. She seemed pleasantly surprised to see me all dolled up when we met for cocktails with another friend (that's how often I go the extra mile to look nice), and off we went to hit the bar.
The first person to try to strike up a conversation with me at the bar was a man old enough to be my father. I politely chatted with him without encouraging further questions until he moved on to rejoin his group of friends, and I turned to Siu Yen and lamented at how I only ever seem to attract much older guys (it certainly seems to be true, sometimes). However to my personal quiet relief, another guy started chatting to me, and he was more my age. Thank goodness it's not only older men that like the look of me, after all! I mean I know I'm awesome on the inside, but let's face it: in this unjust world, first impressions are everything. In any case, I wasn't interested, and after a few good-natured digs at each other's choices of drinks I re-grouped with my friends.
I couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if I was interested in the second guy, and I thought of how he'd probably run a mile as soon as he found out that beneath my charming, elegant exterior was hiding a slightly awkward supernerd who only properly styles her hair once every few months. I certainly found that the young professional guys during my social experiment pretty much eliminated me as a serious option the more they discovered how dorky I really am. On the other scale of things, when I'm 'off-duty' and just my normal slightly dorky self, there's still a professional,strong-willed and sharp person under that, too.
In any case, it gave me a bit of an always much-needed confidence boost. I often think that older men chat me up because they think I might be easier because I'm not as stunning as other girls in the room (I'm alright-looking, but I'm no classic Ten). It's nice once in a while when I get noticed by someone more my age in any case, even if on a selfish level because I'm not interested back. Anyway, at the end of the evening I took my SCG face off, brushed my immaculate SCG curls back into my hair's usual slightly fluffy shock of waves, and by the next day I'd morphed into GDG- my fallback facet.
I own quite a few nerdy T-shirts. A Big Bang Theory-themed one with the word 'BAZINGA' emblazoned on the front in large writing, a crossover one with some minions from Despicable Me carrying off the TARDIS, more than one My Neighbour Totoro T-shirt, one with the Thundercats logo, a pretty cool 3D effect from from Cyberdog... but my current favourite one is a picture of all the main characters of Marvel's The Avengers as cartoon cats. It's freaking adorable. This is what I wore on Saturday, with some cropped linen trousers and sandals. Not exactly 'hot girl material', but it was very me.
Ironically, I told Siu Yen about my theory about me getting more attention when I'm dressed up, but whenever I'm more like myself, no-one so much as glances in my direction. I noted how although I hate being the centre of attention and quite like vanishing into the crowd, I do feel kind of sad that the exterior of the 'real me' doesn't seem worth a bother. Does that mean that the interior that goes with it isn't worth a bother, too? That is of course ridiculous- but the problem of course is that you have to get to know me over time to realise there's more to me than that. It's the same for everybody- but alas, some people get a visual head start in life.
The irony of that conversation happened when Siu Yen and I went shopping, and I was paying for my stuff at the checkout of a semi-stylish high street store. The guy serving me at the counter glanced at my Avenger Cats T-shirt and quirked an eyebrow at me. I felt a little self-conscious, but stared back politely but defiantly. I assessed him quickly: gelled spiky hair, effortless smart-casual style, a slightly haughty stance- he probably didn't have a nerdy bone in his body.
"Nice shirt," he said, scanning the surprisingly) fashionable top I'd just bought.
"Thanks," I said, thinking he was being slightly sarcastic but deciding to play along as if he were being sincere. "Cats- awesome, Avengers- epic, can't go wrong!"
The guy grinned, and I suddenly felt slightly defensive.
"Sorry," I said, instantly mad at myself for apologising like I always do, "Super-geek."
He looked a little surprised, and then he said something that blew me away.
"Me, too. Marvel, games, Warcraft, love it."
Now I was the one judging a book by its cover. Great. Wait, Warcraft?
"World of Warcraft? I lost like, a good two years of my life to that game! I quit just before the Cataclysm expansion because I got bored of how long it took to get from level 75 to 80."
"Well I've lost eight years and counting, but I really got into it during the Wrath of the Litch King."
"That's when I started playing, but I got sick of waiting for the right gear to drop from bosses."
"I guess I got lucky, now I have three level 90 guys."
"Geeze that's dedication."
I was aware of Siu Yen grinning off to the side, a little non-plussed at the WoW talk having never played it. In the end I paid for my stuff, all the while chatting away about the nerdiest stuff ever, and left grinning like a lunatic. Finally, for once someone noticing the real (well, more genuine) me from the start! It felt amazing. Maybe I don't have to be SCG all the time to be taken seriously as a person. I spent the rest of the day in a great mood.
The next day, I came to the station with Siu Yen to see her off, wearing my BAZINGA top. When we were in the coffee shop, the girl behind the counter pointed to my T-shirt and said to me "amazing top, I LOVE that show! Where did you get it from?"
I was in a great mood that day, too.
So even I am guilty of judging people by the way they present themselves, and there are people out there that will notice me when I'm not all dolled up too. In which case, I should learn to look at people in a different way, and remember that there's more to people than what they put out there on the surface for the world to see. I know this. Everyone knows this. It's just hard to remember sometimes when you're wrapped up in your own world of facets.
Monday, 8 July 2013
In Which I Conduct a Social Experiment: Part 3- Conclusion
Bloody hell you know how I was bragging about running two miles a little while ago? I thought I was pretty hardcore doing it when it was 22 degrees out. Even more hardcore when I did it in the rain. I just went out in 28 degrees C skin-spitroasting-sun weather and only managed a mile and a half before feeling like a dehydrated jellyfish. Utter fail.
Anyway, yesterday. It was alright! At least I felt happy enough, the guy was indeed fun to talk to as I'd suspected and the hour in the coffee shop before I had to go meet my friend Jules went pretty fast. I made the mistake of choosing a size Massive coffee after a week's coffee prohibition though and spent the whole hour trying to act as little like I was about to be sick and then pass out as possible, but I think I covered it quite well. I think. I've discovered that I have a weird automatic response to feeling slightly awkward in new social situations: shaking people's hands way too often. It's weirdly overly formal, I've got to stop that. In any case, it was fun hearing a bit about what it's like to be on the guy-end of speed dating and the like.
So he texted me his email a little while after, which I guess means I didn't weird him out too much. His email address does have '1337' in it though so there's a small chance I might have been trolled (if you don't know the significance of 1337, look up 'leetspeak' and then bear in mind it has the same trendiness as 'YOLO' nowadays), but that's just me being a smidge overly analytical. Other than that, I didn't spontaneously combust into flames of embarrassment and shame, and neither did he, so I'd mark that as a pretty successful interaction between two human beings, even if that's the last I hear from Daniel-Does-Not-Do-Comicon. Therefore I close this experiment on myself, and anything related to this experiment that may or may not happen afterwards will just be put down to Life. Or possibly Irony. Most likely a bit of both.
Oh, and although I failed at running in the heat today, my training is definitely paying off: when I realised that I'd left my phone in the coffee shop whilst I was waiting for Jules, I sprinted a whole 300 metres back to the coffee shop, where my phone was thankfully waiting for me, and then 300 metres back again to meet my friend on time. It was 30 degrees out. Win. Although the sudden caffeine spike may have helped...
~Fin~
Anyway, yesterday. It was alright! At least I felt happy enough, the guy was indeed fun to talk to as I'd suspected and the hour in the coffee shop before I had to go meet my friend Jules went pretty fast. I made the mistake of choosing a size Massive coffee after a week's coffee prohibition though and spent the whole hour trying to act as little like I was about to be sick and then pass out as possible, but I think I covered it quite well. I think. I've discovered that I have a weird automatic response to feeling slightly awkward in new social situations: shaking people's hands way too often. It's weirdly overly formal, I've got to stop that. In any case, it was fun hearing a bit about what it's like to be on the guy-end of speed dating and the like.
So he texted me his email a little while after, which I guess means I didn't weird him out too much. His email address does have '1337' in it though so there's a small chance I might have been trolled (if you don't know the significance of 1337, look up 'leetspeak' and then bear in mind it has the same trendiness as 'YOLO' nowadays), but that's just me being a smidge overly analytical. Other than that, I didn't spontaneously combust into flames of embarrassment and shame, and neither did he, so I'd mark that as a pretty successful interaction between two human beings, even if that's the last I hear from Daniel-Does-Not-Do-Comicon. Therefore I close this experiment on myself, and anything related to this experiment that may or may not happen afterwards will just be put down to Life. Or possibly Irony. Most likely a bit of both.
Oh, and although I failed at running in the heat today, my training is definitely paying off: when I realised that I'd left my phone in the coffee shop whilst I was waiting for Jules, I sprinted a whole 300 metres back to the coffee shop, where my phone was thankfully waiting for me, and then 300 metres back again to meet my friend on time. It was 30 degrees out. Win. Although the sudden caffeine spike may have helped...
~Fin~
Friday, 9 November 2012
A Pseudo-Cinderella Evening
What's more awkward than sharpening your blunt-from-lack-of-practice flirting skills on a cheeky barrista in a coffee shop? Flirting with the barrista and suddenly realising your mother is watching you disapprovingly.
After work yesterday, my mum asked me if I'd be interested in going to a special screening of the opera Tosca at Vue Westfield. I was there in a flash- I love opera, I love cinema, and I've always wanted to go to one of the interesting functions my mum often gets to go to as part of her job (she works for a media production and promotion company). I also saw it as an opportunity to practise my networking skills- I'm a keen writer, but I'm quite a clumsy conversationlist at times because my brain often works faster than my mouth is able to formulate the right words. So, feeling relieved that I always dress well for work anyway and was already wearing a nice dress and boots, I made my way there.
I met mum at the Starbucks near the station there, and went up to grab a hot chocolate, and ended up chatting/ flirting lightheartedly with the barrista guy before remember that my mum was sat right behind me, and was quite opening staring at us. I was all the more mortified when it came to paying and my well-meaning mum suddenly called me and thrust a handful of money in my direction (which I very politely declined, laughing 'thanks, don't worry about it' but dying a bit inside at the same time). At least the barrista guy seemed to appreciate the fact that I stacked everything up neatly before we moved on- having worked in catering before I always make a point of trying to make serving staff's lives as easy as possible.
The rest of the evening was quite surreal- there I was in the posh part of the cinema, smartly dressed and sipping glasses of champagne, eating tiny canapes and schmoozing with other guests (making a joke of the fact that I was only a 'plus one' and that my mum was really the one in the media industry, but no-one seemed to mind), and then going on to see an opera, albeit on screen. At one point I rather inelegantly sent a chunk of feta cheese flying whilst gesturing wildly, which was quite embarrassing (I cleaned it up myself- again, less work for the waiting staff), but far worse embarrassing things have happened to me, so it didn't bother me too much, so it didn't bother anyone else either (I hope).
I think I made a good (read: at very least memorable..!) impression, on the whole, even if I never meet any of these people again. One guy likened me to Katniss from the Hunger Games when me doing archery somehow came into the conversation,which was slightly amusing in an ironic way, seeing as I'd met someone a few days ago who reminded me of Peeta Mellark from the movie version (see my previous entry). Anyway, it was great fun getting to know different people and with just the right amount of glamour without me feeling ridiculous and out of place, and I could get used to that sort of life- although I know it was a one-off. I felt like Cinderella, going around talking to Important People at an Exclusive Event, going home by midnight. In any case, I've definitely come a long way in terms of being able to go around a room and talk to strangers by myself, and I hope I can only get better.
I also hope I get better at keeping small cubes of cheese on little blinis as opposed to on the floor, too.
~Fin~
Afterword: I wrote a short article about Vue cinema's campaign to bring opera to the silver screen and make it more accessible to the masses, I'll post a link or something when I figure out where to publish it.
After work yesterday, my mum asked me if I'd be interested in going to a special screening of the opera Tosca at Vue Westfield. I was there in a flash- I love opera, I love cinema, and I've always wanted to go to one of the interesting functions my mum often gets to go to as part of her job (she works for a media production and promotion company). I also saw it as an opportunity to practise my networking skills- I'm a keen writer, but I'm quite a clumsy conversationlist at times because my brain often works faster than my mouth is able to formulate the right words. So, feeling relieved that I always dress well for work anyway and was already wearing a nice dress and boots, I made my way there.
I met mum at the Starbucks near the station there, and went up to grab a hot chocolate, and ended up chatting/ flirting lightheartedly with the barrista guy before remember that my mum was sat right behind me, and was quite opening staring at us. I was all the more mortified when it came to paying and my well-meaning mum suddenly called me and thrust a handful of money in my direction (which I very politely declined, laughing 'thanks, don't worry about it' but dying a bit inside at the same time). At least the barrista guy seemed to appreciate the fact that I stacked everything up neatly before we moved on- having worked in catering before I always make a point of trying to make serving staff's lives as easy as possible.
The rest of the evening was quite surreal- there I was in the posh part of the cinema, smartly dressed and sipping glasses of champagne, eating tiny canapes and schmoozing with other guests (making a joke of the fact that I was only a 'plus one' and that my mum was really the one in the media industry, but no-one seemed to mind), and then going on to see an opera, albeit on screen. At one point I rather inelegantly sent a chunk of feta cheese flying whilst gesturing wildly, which was quite embarrassing (I cleaned it up myself- again, less work for the waiting staff), but far worse embarrassing things have happened to me, so it didn't bother me too much, so it didn't bother anyone else either (I hope).
I think I made a good (read: at very least memorable..!) impression, on the whole, even if I never meet any of these people again. One guy likened me to Katniss from the Hunger Games when me doing archery somehow came into the conversation,which was slightly amusing in an ironic way, seeing as I'd met someone a few days ago who reminded me of Peeta Mellark from the movie version (see my previous entry). Anyway, it was great fun getting to know different people and with just the right amount of glamour without me feeling ridiculous and out of place, and I could get used to that sort of life- although I know it was a one-off. I felt like Cinderella, going around talking to Important People at an Exclusive Event, going home by midnight. In any case, I've definitely come a long way in terms of being able to go around a room and talk to strangers by myself, and I hope I can only get better.
I also hope I get better at keeping small cubes of cheese on little blinis as opposed to on the floor, too.
~Fin~
Afterword: I wrote a short article about Vue cinema's campaign to bring opera to the silver screen and make it more accessible to the masses, I'll post a link or something when I figure out where to publish it.
Monday, 15 October 2012
More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 3
In which my colleagues finally catch a glimpse of the guy they've teasingly dubbed my 'stalker'.
Today, our team had just driven back from a long out-of-office morning meeting and were ravenous for lunch, so we stopped off by the shops- the same one where this guy works, but I was too hungry to really think about that. Besides, I had been out plenty of times since the last run-in (in the company of a colleague or two, of course), and seen no sign of him.
It was reasonably busy in the shop so the all of the tills were being manned, but most people like me just had one or two things and it was going quickly. As the queue moved along I chatted to my colleagues and read the nutritional value of my carrot sticks and hummus, and eventually I made my way to the next available cashier.
I plopped my lunch on the counter, still daydreaming.
"A very light lunch today, I see!"
"Yes, I-" I started at the familiar voice, and blinked upwards and out of my reverie, feeling myself going into manic friendly mode. "Oh- hello! How are you?"
"I'm good thanks! Yourself?"
"Oh, same old, same old," I laughed uncertainly.
"How's your work going at the moment?"
I glanced behind me like a panicked bunny rabbit looking for a way out of a fox's path, and I saw my opportunity.
"It's going well- look, I know you're busy and there's a queue building up- I don't want to get you into trouble! I'll see you around, alright?"
"Sure, see you later!"
I hurriedly bustled towards the exit, catching up with one of my colleagues. I caught her gaze, wiggling my eyebrows jerked my head wildly in His direction, indicating that this was the guy I'd been talking about. She raised her eyebrows in return as if to ask 'who, him?' I nodded, and she grinned.
One by one my other colleagues (who were behind me in the queue) caught up with my by the exit, and it was apparent that they'd clocked what was going on, and were very amused.
"That was him, wasn't it! At first I thought you were just randomly being really friendly to someone you'd never met before, but then I remembered about him."
"I'm so sorry Tash, I should have offered to pay for your thing so you could escape, but by the time I realised who he was it was too late."
"Only you could wait in a long queue and end up being served by the one person you want to avoid, Tash."
"I heard your excuse- nicely done!"
"Did you see how he craned around afterwards to check if you were really leaving or not?"
We were outside and I was cracking up by now. "At least you all know for real I haven't made this guy up, now! I just hope he didn't see us convening like a coven and whispering and cackling, or he might get the wrong end of the stick and think I'm interested after all..."
One rolled her eyes in mock-despair. "Of course Tash, now that he knows we work with you he might start asking us about you- so now we can't go to these shops, either!"
It's a shame, because the food in that shop is really good.
To be continued?
Today, our team had just driven back from a long out-of-office morning meeting and were ravenous for lunch, so we stopped off by the shops- the same one where this guy works, but I was too hungry to really think about that. Besides, I had been out plenty of times since the last run-in (in the company of a colleague or two, of course), and seen no sign of him.
It was reasonably busy in the shop so the all of the tills were being manned, but most people like me just had one or two things and it was going quickly. As the queue moved along I chatted to my colleagues and read the nutritional value of my carrot sticks and hummus, and eventually I made my way to the next available cashier.
I plopped my lunch on the counter, still daydreaming.
"A very light lunch today, I see!"
"Yes, I-" I started at the familiar voice, and blinked upwards and out of my reverie, feeling myself going into manic friendly mode. "Oh- hello! How are you?"
"I'm good thanks! Yourself?"
"Oh, same old, same old," I laughed uncertainly.
"How's your work going at the moment?"
I glanced behind me like a panicked bunny rabbit looking for a way out of a fox's path, and I saw my opportunity.
"It's going well- look, I know you're busy and there's a queue building up- I don't want to get you into trouble! I'll see you around, alright?"
"Sure, see you later!"
I hurriedly bustled towards the exit, catching up with one of my colleagues. I caught her gaze, wiggling my eyebrows jerked my head wildly in His direction, indicating that this was the guy I'd been talking about. She raised her eyebrows in return as if to ask 'who, him?' I nodded, and she grinned.
One by one my other colleagues (who were behind me in the queue) caught up with my by the exit, and it was apparent that they'd clocked what was going on, and were very amused.
"That was him, wasn't it! At first I thought you were just randomly being really friendly to someone you'd never met before, but then I remembered about him."
"I'm so sorry Tash, I should have offered to pay for your thing so you could escape, but by the time I realised who he was it was too late."
"Only you could wait in a long queue and end up being served by the one person you want to avoid, Tash."
"I heard your excuse- nicely done!"
"Did you see how he craned around afterwards to check if you were really leaving or not?"
We were outside and I was cracking up by now. "At least you all know for real I haven't made this guy up, now! I just hope he didn't see us convening like a coven and whispering and cackling, or he might get the wrong end of the stick and think I'm interested after all..."
One rolled her eyes in mock-despair. "Of course Tash, now that he knows we work with you he might start asking us about you- so now we can't go to these shops, either!"
It's a shame, because the food in that shop is really good.
To be continued?
Sunday, 14 October 2012
Serious Business: A Quarter of a Century Old
((I was about to apologise for the more serious tone of this entry- but who am I kidding, I regret nothing!))
This weekend (Saturday to be exact), I turned 25 years old.
On Friday I travelled to Birmingham, the place of my studies, to stay the weekend at my very good friend's house. Lucia's birthday is always a day after mine, and since we were both turning 25 on the Saturday and Sunday one after another, we decided to celebrate this milestone by throwing a Halloween-themed murder mystery dinner party. We spent Friday preparing the base for the cake (check out this entry on my other blog for pics), decorating the dining area in preparation for a spooky game and three-course dinner, and chilling in general.
Lucia and I spent a bit of time joking about turning 25 and how so many people had been teasing us about becoming 'a quarter of a century old', and how overly dramatic it sounded. Lucia, Peter (Lucia's husband and also another uni friend of mine) and I were drinking tea, eating chocolate and generally chilling out late into the evening, when I glanced at the clock.
It was 23:50.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, I got a tremendous sense of Do Not Want.
Nearly twenty-five years of memories flickered through my mind like someone fast-forwarding a tape, and stopped as suddenly as it came on. I inwardly assessed myself as part of my social network rather than just as an individual, which is so much easier because you're only figuring yourself in the equation. Almost all of my friends and certainly my closest ones are married or attached and discussing marriage or Attached (with a capital A to portray the fact that although marriage isn't on the cards, they'll spend their lives together). Some are mentioning the prospect of children in the now increasingly near future. Hell, it even only took my dear old ex at very most three weeks after jumping our three-year relation-ship ((see what I did there?)) to find the love of his life (evident by the perhaps slightly shameless profile pictures on a certain popular social media site he published before I blocked his arse), which was a fair while ago now (long enough, thankfully, to only feel a twinge of annoyance about the whole thing- although it annoys me further that I still feel a little annoyed, which is inherently annoying).
Where was I now, though? In a stable (I hope) and decent job, but still living with my parents and in my soon-to-be (now current) mid-twenties, steadily but far too painfully slowly saving up for my own place, contentedly unattached- but watching those closest to me beginning to show signs of moving in the realm of having Their Own Life, and even Starting Families.
I suddenly realised what's been eating away at me for a while now: a time is coming when I'm going to be facing a lot of stuff on my own. I'm an only child and my parents, although in largely good health, aren't getting any younger, and whilst my friends will always be there for me and vice versa they will be getting on with their own lives, and dynamics will shift very drastically with children in the mix (which, don't get me wrong, I don't consider a bad thing at all- in fact, I'm quite looking forward to being Auntie Tash and I hope I turn out to be a really fun aunt). But what the fun things we have been doing in our youth and what were going to do on Saturday night- dressing up in ridiculous and cool costumes, painting out faces, drinking bright green appletinis and basically acting our shoe sizes- is soon going to become a thing of the past.
And because I'm contentedly unattached but at the root of things, when I think about it, slow to develop affection towards people even on a friendship-type level, there is every chance that I'll become fun and slightly wacky Auntie Tash who bakes a lot of cake and lives with a load of cats.
(('That's not true!' I hear my friends cry, 'You'll find someone very special to you one day.'))
I snapped out of it- this whole train of thought blinked past in about thirty seconds anyway- and mentioned my determination to do the best I could in life and get the most out of it, even if I never did find my partner in crime in life. Sure enough, my loyal friends told me not to worry, that I'd find Him eventually. I think my friends really do believe that, even if I'm genuinely quite a bit less convinced. We chatted and joked some more.
At the back of my mind I worried though, and I thought: 'Is that all that's important to me? Not being alone? Am I that cowardly?'
I glanced up at the clock again. 00:25. Saturday morning.
"I believe it's my birthday, now," I announced.
I felt the weird, slightly unfamiliar feeling of certainty flood through me.
'No.' I silently answered my own question as my friends and I decided if I should open my card and present now, or after sleeping. I'm not afraid of being alone- at least, not in the grand scheme of things. Yes, it's more than a little scary on a selfish level to see those closest to me levelling up in the game that is Life whilst I feel like I'm floundering far behind everyone else in the starting zone. Yes, the responsibility and duty of being an only child is quite scary, too. And yes, to be completely transparent, it is a tad lonely to not have that special someone who totally gets you to share your life with- I'm a human being, not a honey badger ((for some reason, the honey badger was the first solitary animal I could think of... don't ask, I don't know)). But rather than believing myself to be behind everyone, I began to realise in that instant that I'm not seeing everyone ahead of me- I'm just seeing everyone off to the side.
I'm on a different path- not lagging behind on a singular one. And I don't even want that many cats, anyway.
I suddenly felt a lot better.
The next day we ate chocolate for breakfast, had friends round and dressed up in ridiculous and cool costumes, we painted our faces, we drank appletinis and we ate a stupid amount of cake. I laughed so hard I nearly displaced my kidneys in my corseted Morticia outfit. There is Stuff that is going to be heading my way soon enough, a big chunk of that Stuff I can't even begin to try and predict- but for now, I'll just enjoy being young. After all, I'm still only in my mid-twenties.
~Fin~
This weekend (Saturday to be exact), I turned 25 years old.
On Friday I travelled to Birmingham, the place of my studies, to stay the weekend at my very good friend's house. Lucia's birthday is always a day after mine, and since we were both turning 25 on the Saturday and Sunday one after another, we decided to celebrate this milestone by throwing a Halloween-themed murder mystery dinner party. We spent Friday preparing the base for the cake (check out this entry on my other blog for pics), decorating the dining area in preparation for a spooky game and three-course dinner, and chilling in general.
Lucia and I spent a bit of time joking about turning 25 and how so many people had been teasing us about becoming 'a quarter of a century old', and how overly dramatic it sounded. Lucia, Peter (Lucia's husband and also another uni friend of mine) and I were drinking tea, eating chocolate and generally chilling out late into the evening, when I glanced at the clock.
It was 23:50.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, I got a tremendous sense of Do Not Want.
Nearly twenty-five years of memories flickered through my mind like someone fast-forwarding a tape, and stopped as suddenly as it came on. I inwardly assessed myself as part of my social network rather than just as an individual, which is so much easier because you're only figuring yourself in the equation. Almost all of my friends and certainly my closest ones are married or attached and discussing marriage or Attached (with a capital A to portray the fact that although marriage isn't on the cards, they'll spend their lives together). Some are mentioning the prospect of children in the now increasingly near future. Hell, it even only took my dear old ex at very most three weeks after jumping our three-year relation-ship ((see what I did there?)) to find the love of his life (evident by the perhaps slightly shameless profile pictures on a certain popular social media site he published before I blocked his arse), which was a fair while ago now (long enough, thankfully, to only feel a twinge of annoyance about the whole thing- although it annoys me further that I still feel a little annoyed, which is inherently annoying).
Where was I now, though? In a stable (I hope) and decent job, but still living with my parents and in my soon-to-be (now current) mid-twenties, steadily but far too painfully slowly saving up for my own place, contentedly unattached- but watching those closest to me beginning to show signs of moving in the realm of having Their Own Life, and even Starting Families.
I suddenly realised what's been eating away at me for a while now: a time is coming when I'm going to be facing a lot of stuff on my own. I'm an only child and my parents, although in largely good health, aren't getting any younger, and whilst my friends will always be there for me and vice versa they will be getting on with their own lives, and dynamics will shift very drastically with children in the mix (which, don't get me wrong, I don't consider a bad thing at all- in fact, I'm quite looking forward to being Auntie Tash and I hope I turn out to be a really fun aunt). But what the fun things we have been doing in our youth and what were going to do on Saturday night- dressing up in ridiculous and cool costumes, painting out faces, drinking bright green appletinis and basically acting our shoe sizes- is soon going to become a thing of the past.
And because I'm contentedly unattached but at the root of things, when I think about it, slow to develop affection towards people even on a friendship-type level, there is every chance that I'll become fun and slightly wacky Auntie Tash who bakes a lot of cake and lives with a load of cats.
(('That's not true!' I hear my friends cry, 'You'll find someone very special to you one day.'))
I snapped out of it- this whole train of thought blinked past in about thirty seconds anyway- and mentioned my determination to do the best I could in life and get the most out of it, even if I never did find my partner in crime in life. Sure enough, my loyal friends told me not to worry, that I'd find Him eventually. I think my friends really do believe that, even if I'm genuinely quite a bit less convinced. We chatted and joked some more.
At the back of my mind I worried though, and I thought: 'Is that all that's important to me? Not being alone? Am I that cowardly?'
I glanced up at the clock again. 00:25. Saturday morning.
"I believe it's my birthday, now," I announced.
I felt the weird, slightly unfamiliar feeling of certainty flood through me.
'No.' I silently answered my own question as my friends and I decided if I should open my card and present now, or after sleeping. I'm not afraid of being alone- at least, not in the grand scheme of things. Yes, it's more than a little scary on a selfish level to see those closest to me levelling up in the game that is Life whilst I feel like I'm floundering far behind everyone else in the starting zone. Yes, the responsibility and duty of being an only child is quite scary, too. And yes, to be completely transparent, it is a tad lonely to not have that special someone who totally gets you to share your life with- I'm a human being, not a honey badger ((for some reason, the honey badger was the first solitary animal I could think of... don't ask, I don't know)). But rather than believing myself to be behind everyone, I began to realise in that instant that I'm not seeing everyone ahead of me- I'm just seeing everyone off to the side.
I'm on a different path- not lagging behind on a singular one. And I don't even want that many cats, anyway.
I suddenly felt a lot better.
The next day we ate chocolate for breakfast, had friends round and dressed up in ridiculous and cool costumes, we painted our faces, we drank appletinis and we ate a stupid amount of cake. I laughed so hard I nearly displaced my kidneys in my corseted Morticia outfit. There is Stuff that is going to be heading my way soon enough, a big chunk of that Stuff I can't even begin to try and predict- but for now, I'll just enjoy being young. After all, I'm still only in my mid-twenties.
~Fin~
Wednesday, 3 October 2012
More Potential Unwanted Attention: Part 2
About that face transplant...
I ventured out earlier than usual today, hoping I could sneak to the Other Shops (the ones where this guy doesn't work). As I turned into the road that leads to the Other Shops I breathed a mental sigh of relief, as I thought I was in the clear.
No such luck, however.
"Hey, Natasha!"
Oh, hell.
"Oh... he- heeeeey!" I grinned, automatically going into super-friendly mode and hating myself for it.
He increased his pace to catch up with me- he seemed to be walking up the path away from the Other Shops, so I jokingly asked him why he was visiting them when he worked at His Shops (which are actually better).
"Haha, yeah, my friends there thought it was weird too. Anyway, are you walking down there? I was just going- we could walk together!"
No. You were clearly just coming back from them.
"Sure, why not?"
Damn.
So we walked and chatted whilst I wracked my brain to find some way to shake him off. Nothing I did seemed to work.
"So, how has your day been today?" He asked.
"Oh, it's been okay. I've spent most of the day writing product copy for hats."
"Oh wow, really? That's cool."
I mentally facepalmed at his almost exaggerated enthusiasm- surely writing about hats doesn't sound that thrilling? I tried again.
"So how come you're off to the (Other Shops)?"
"I just wanted to get some vitamins. Like cod liver oil. Would you be interested in that? You probably are, it's pretty useful for women isn't it, to stay flexible."
What.
"Er yeah haha, good for the joints or something." I tried, bravely.
This continued for a bit- I even found an opportunity to hint at how nerdy I am to try and put him off, and enthusiastically told him the story of how saccharin was invented.
"Oh wow really? That's really interesting!"
We entered the Other Shops around this point.
"By the way Natasha, I couldn't manage to find you on Facebook- you do spell it the normal way, don't you?"
Damn.
"Oh- yes. You know it's funny, people have told me I'm not easy to find on Facebook before." (True). "Why don't you give me your last name and I could look you up?"
"Good idea!"
I was, in the end, saved by my cluttered Mary Poppins/ TARDIS technology bag, as I couldn't find a pen or paper, and the guy said he'd try again and see if he could find my name on the company's Facebook page. Which is unlikely, as I haven't posted there before.
"We could browse around the shops together- what are you looking for today?"
Oh, hell no.
"Er, you know what, I'm sort of funny about doing my shopping with people," (panic mode engaged, lame excuse activated) "and I should be getting back to work soon anyway. But I'm sure I'll see you around soon!"
"Alright, I'll see you around!"
I spent the remaining half hour of my lunch break dodging him and looking over my shoulder until I saw him go- which was quite a good amount of time. Apparently it takes half an hour to buy one small container of cod liver oil.
One thing's for sure though, it's given me enough time to confirm (to my relief) that it's not about trust issues; I'm just genuinely not interested.
However, that doesn't dig me out of the muddy pit of Awkward Situation I'm now in.
To be continued?
I ventured out earlier than usual today, hoping I could sneak to the Other Shops (the ones where this guy doesn't work). As I turned into the road that leads to the Other Shops I breathed a mental sigh of relief, as I thought I was in the clear.
No such luck, however.
"Hey, Natasha!"
Oh, hell.
"Oh... he- heeeeey!" I grinned, automatically going into super-friendly mode and hating myself for it.
He increased his pace to catch up with me- he seemed to be walking up the path away from the Other Shops, so I jokingly asked him why he was visiting them when he worked at His Shops (which are actually better).
"Haha, yeah, my friends there thought it was weird too. Anyway, are you walking down there? I was just going- we could walk together!"
No. You were clearly just coming back from them.
"Sure, why not?"
Damn.
So we walked and chatted whilst I wracked my brain to find some way to shake him off. Nothing I did seemed to work.
"So, how has your day been today?" He asked.
"Oh, it's been okay. I've spent most of the day writing product copy for hats."
"Oh wow, really? That's cool."
I mentally facepalmed at his almost exaggerated enthusiasm- surely writing about hats doesn't sound that thrilling? I tried again.
"So how come you're off to the (Other Shops)?"
"I just wanted to get some vitamins. Like cod liver oil. Would you be interested in that? You probably are, it's pretty useful for women isn't it, to stay flexible."
What.
"Er yeah haha, good for the joints or something." I tried, bravely.
This continued for a bit- I even found an opportunity to hint at how nerdy I am to try and put him off, and enthusiastically told him the story of how saccharin was invented.
"Oh wow really? That's really interesting!"
We entered the Other Shops around this point.
"By the way Natasha, I couldn't manage to find you on Facebook- you do spell it the normal way, don't you?"
Damn.
"Oh- yes. You know it's funny, people have told me I'm not easy to find on Facebook before." (True). "Why don't you give me your last name and I could look you up?"
"Good idea!"
I was, in the end, saved by my cluttered Mary Poppins/ TARDIS technology bag, as I couldn't find a pen or paper, and the guy said he'd try again and see if he could find my name on the company's Facebook page. Which is unlikely, as I haven't posted there before.
"We could browse around the shops together- what are you looking for today?"
Oh, hell no.
"Er, you know what, I'm sort of funny about doing my shopping with people," (panic mode engaged, lame excuse activated) "and I should be getting back to work soon anyway. But I'm sure I'll see you around soon!"
"Alright, I'll see you around!"
I spent the remaining half hour of my lunch break dodging him and looking over my shoulder until I saw him go- which was quite a good amount of time. Apparently it takes half an hour to buy one small container of cod liver oil.
One thing's for sure though, it's given me enough time to confirm (to my relief) that it's not about trust issues; I'm just genuinely not interested.
However, that doesn't dig me out of the muddy pit of Awkward Situation I'm now in.
To be continued?
Friday, 28 September 2012
More Potential Unwanted Attention
Today I have decided that either I need a new job in another location, or possibly a face transplant. Or I just have to go out at lunchtime with other colleagues, or don some sort of disguise. Here's why.
One day I was walking down the street from work at lunch time when I walked past this guy going in the opposite direction, and sort of noticed in my peripheral vision that he had sort of stopped and was dithering a bit. Feeling sort of nervous (because I was about to stop by the cash machine) but knowing I was just being a bit paranoid, I squared up a bit and made myself alert, but carried on with what I was doing.
He'd vanished when I'd got to the cash machine, at which point I relaxed a bit- but as soon as I was done and walking away from the cash machine, he appeared out of nowhere and approached me. I needn't have worried though as he turned out to be nice enough (and probably hung back on purpose when I went to the cash machine so I wouldn't freak out too much, now that I think about it).
"Sorry to bother you, but do you work at the head offices up the road?" He asked. I blinked, and mentally kicked myself into friendly social mode, smiling.
"Yes that's right, at _____. Why d'you ask?"
"Oh, I have a friend that works there, I wonder if you know him?"
And so we got talking. It turns out he lives locally and actually works at one of the shops I sometimes go to at lunch time, and I've been bumping into him on the street or in those shops since.
I'm no egotist- in fact I still have a little bit of 'ex fat girl' syndrome, where I can't believe anyone would look twice at me. On the other hand, no-one approaches a stranger in the street just like that without having an ulterior motive (harmless or no), so I made sure I remained politely friendly and pleasant but not overly so during our encounters.
Recently though I've not been going out as much as I've had a lot to get through, so I've been staying in to work at lunch. Today I allowed myself a trip out to stretch my legs, and I bumped into him again- so we chatted for a bit. After a little while he paused and suddenly said, all confidence,
"I don't want to keep you, you're obviously really busy, but you know I wouldn't mind giving you my number if you wanted. I'd like to talk to you more often."
My brain broke a bit. Between my trying hard not to get in this situation in the first place, being asked out just a little while back by someone else and being pretty sure the usual request is to have the girl's number rather than offering it- although maybe the other way round is actually better, I was inwardly flummoxed. Thankfully outwardly I didn't show any of my inner turmoil.
My brain scrambled into action, learning from the last time to be respectful but to the point.
"You know, I'd really like that, as friends. Just so you know and so I'm not messing you about or anything, I'm not really interested in being in a relationship right now."
He nodded earnestly. "Sure, as friends."
And then, meaning to further solidify my stance, I put my foot in it.
"Yeah, I'm sort of recently out of a relationship..."
His face lit up a bit. "Really?"
DAMMIT! Crush his hopes and dreams Tash, crush them now!
"Er, anyway, look me up on Facebook, I'm on it as unhealthily regularly as everyone," I flustered.
As he cheerily waved me on my way, I got halfway down the road before I- I'm invisible on Facebook. The poor guy's going to think I gave him a dud name or something.
And that is why I'm going to have to change jobs or get a face transplant.
~Fin~
Afterword: That's the second time I've rebuffed someone in the last two months. I may need to take a good look at myself and find out if it really is because I'm too busy enjoying the single life (which I know at least is definitely partially true), or if I've developed a few trust issues from the last relationshipbomb. Oh dear.
To be continued?
One day I was walking down the street from work at lunch time when I walked past this guy going in the opposite direction, and sort of noticed in my peripheral vision that he had sort of stopped and was dithering a bit. Feeling sort of nervous (because I was about to stop by the cash machine) but knowing I was just being a bit paranoid, I squared up a bit and made myself alert, but carried on with what I was doing.
He'd vanished when I'd got to the cash machine, at which point I relaxed a bit- but as soon as I was done and walking away from the cash machine, he appeared out of nowhere and approached me. I needn't have worried though as he turned out to be nice enough (and probably hung back on purpose when I went to the cash machine so I wouldn't freak out too much, now that I think about it).
"Sorry to bother you, but do you work at the head offices up the road?" He asked. I blinked, and mentally kicked myself into friendly social mode, smiling.
"Yes that's right, at _____. Why d'you ask?"
"Oh, I have a friend that works there, I wonder if you know him?"
And so we got talking. It turns out he lives locally and actually works at one of the shops I sometimes go to at lunch time, and I've been bumping into him on the street or in those shops since.
I'm no egotist- in fact I still have a little bit of 'ex fat girl' syndrome, where I can't believe anyone would look twice at me. On the other hand, no-one approaches a stranger in the street just like that without having an ulterior motive (harmless or no), so I made sure I remained politely friendly and pleasant but not overly so during our encounters.
Recently though I've not been going out as much as I've had a lot to get through, so I've been staying in to work at lunch. Today I allowed myself a trip out to stretch my legs, and I bumped into him again- so we chatted for a bit. After a little while he paused and suddenly said, all confidence,
"I don't want to keep you, you're obviously really busy, but you know I wouldn't mind giving you my number if you wanted. I'd like to talk to you more often."
My brain broke a bit. Between my trying hard not to get in this situation in the first place, being asked out just a little while back by someone else and being pretty sure the usual request is to have the girl's number rather than offering it- although maybe the other way round is actually better, I was inwardly flummoxed. Thankfully outwardly I didn't show any of my inner turmoil.
My brain scrambled into action, learning from the last time to be respectful but to the point.
"You know, I'd really like that, as friends. Just so you know and so I'm not messing you about or anything, I'm not really interested in being in a relationship right now."
He nodded earnestly. "Sure, as friends."
And then, meaning to further solidify my stance, I put my foot in it.
"Yeah, I'm sort of recently out of a relationship..."
His face lit up a bit. "Really?"
DAMMIT! Crush his hopes and dreams Tash, crush them now!
"Er, anyway, look me up on Facebook, I'm on it as unhealthily regularly as everyone," I flustered.
As he cheerily waved me on my way, I got halfway down the road before I- I'm invisible on Facebook. The poor guy's going to think I gave him a dud name or something.
And that is why I'm going to have to change jobs or get a face transplant.
~Fin~
Afterword: That's the second time I've rebuffed someone in the last two months. I may need to take a good look at myself and find out if it really is because I'm too busy enjoying the single life (which I know at least is definitely partially true), or if I've developed a few trust issues from the last relationshipbomb. Oh dear.
To be continued?
Friday, 3 August 2012
A Missed Opportunity/ A Confidence Boost
Have you ever had the feeling that you might have been able to connect with someone, but you only realise when the chance has passed you by?
I was on the tube this evening on my way home from a day out in Camden Town and King's Cross with Anna, a friend who I haven't seen face-to-face in something like four years (which is unbelieveable and disgraceful and I promise I won't let it happen again) when I noticed a guy snoozing to my opposite right in the carriage. I smiled to myself- he was quite good-looking in my books, and I found the hunched, dishevelled way he was snoozing in (the same form most travellers take when they fall asleep on the tube, in fact), sweet. Not being one to be a Miss Stare-y Stare-ason though (and remembering one creepy incident on the train once when a lady watched me doze very intently for seemingly the entire journey), I turned my attention to the various posters in the carriage.
A few stops later, with my internal monologue asking when it's the appropriate time to wake someone up in case they miss their stop even if you don't know what their stop is (and I'll admit with my curiosity getting the better of me), I looked back at Mr Sleepy*.
He was wide awake and staring right at me.
I looked away quickly, trying not to laugh- it's always awkward when you catch someone's eye on public transport, because this is London and you're supposed to avoid any interaction with your fellow commuter at all costs. All the same though I acknowledge that this is quite a tragic social state to be in, and I find it quite entertaining. I quickly put it out of my mind.
A little down the line though I got the heebie-jeebie feeling out of the corner of my eyes that I was being watched again. I quite firmly chose to ignore it; it's really easy to get into a glance-towards-glance-away match with someone on public transport, where one person wonders why the other is staring at them, whilst the other is thinking the exact same thing.
I forgot about it for a bit, but happened to look in Mr Sleepy's direction again (this time by accident- I promise). He was looking in my direction again, but quickly diverted his gaze as mine crossed his.
What was it this time? Did I have something in my teeth? Fluff in my hair? Had I smeared something on my face but not realised it or had my eyeliner melted halfway down my face in the humidity? (All of these have happened to me on the tube before, of course). I surreptitiouly flicked my phone out to check my reflection on the blank screen (because I didn't want to appear vain and actually get my compact mirror out). Nope, nothing. What was this guy's problem?
A bit later on in the journey after a bit more ignoring I cautiously, suspiciously looked around in his direction again, to find him almost pointedly staring at the door to the next carriage, away from me. Good, I thought, now I can continue my personal journey in peace.
Finally Mr Sleepy's stop came and it was time for him to step off. Instead of just getting up and exiting the door right next to him though, he crossed the carriage to go through the doors just past me. I didn't think much of it as he did- I do stupid things like that all the time- but I avoided looking up because I was feeling a little bit embarrassed by now (like a real Londoner, rather than the social semi-freak that I am).
As the doors closed behind him I allowed myself to look up one last time at Mr Sleepy- who I still conceded was good-looking- and found him watching me right back as he headed up the stairs and my train pulled away.
The penny dropped. Oh. Damn. If only I'd just smiled.
At least I can add this to the growing list of incidents involving the Y chromosome (since my ex knocking the confidence-stuffing out of me four times over, that is) that assure me that I'm not an utter troll. And to Mr Sleepy- in the unlikely event that you're reading this- I was the girl on the Northern Line to Edgware in the Totoro T-shirt with the long brown hair. Sorry I didn't twig- I'm smiling now to make up for it.
~Fin~
*Sometimes to pass the time I temporarily name my fellow passengers- the guy next to Mr Sleepy was Brighteyes because he had really striking eyes, the girl next to him Wondergirl Assassin because she was stunning, had really sleek black hair and looked like she could be a glamorous assassin, and the guy next to me was Mr I-Got-No-Strings because he'd fallen asleep in a completely slumped position also popular with train snoozers, like a puppet with all the strings cut.
I was on the tube this evening on my way home from a day out in Camden Town and King's Cross with Anna, a friend who I haven't seen face-to-face in something like four years (which is unbelieveable and disgraceful and I promise I won't let it happen again) when I noticed a guy snoozing to my opposite right in the carriage. I smiled to myself- he was quite good-looking in my books, and I found the hunched, dishevelled way he was snoozing in (the same form most travellers take when they fall asleep on the tube, in fact), sweet. Not being one to be a Miss Stare-y Stare-ason though (and remembering one creepy incident on the train once when a lady watched me doze very intently for seemingly the entire journey), I turned my attention to the various posters in the carriage.
A few stops later, with my internal monologue asking when it's the appropriate time to wake someone up in case they miss their stop even if you don't know what their stop is (and I'll admit with my curiosity getting the better of me), I looked back at Mr Sleepy*.
He was wide awake and staring right at me.
I looked away quickly, trying not to laugh- it's always awkward when you catch someone's eye on public transport, because this is London and you're supposed to avoid any interaction with your fellow commuter at all costs. All the same though I acknowledge that this is quite a tragic social state to be in, and I find it quite entertaining. I quickly put it out of my mind.
A little down the line though I got the heebie-jeebie feeling out of the corner of my eyes that I was being watched again. I quite firmly chose to ignore it; it's really easy to get into a glance-towards-glance-away match with someone on public transport, where one person wonders why the other is staring at them, whilst the other is thinking the exact same thing.
I forgot about it for a bit, but happened to look in Mr Sleepy's direction again (this time by accident- I promise). He was looking in my direction again, but quickly diverted his gaze as mine crossed his.
What was it this time? Did I have something in my teeth? Fluff in my hair? Had I smeared something on my face but not realised it or had my eyeliner melted halfway down my face in the humidity? (All of these have happened to me on the tube before, of course). I surreptitiouly flicked my phone out to check my reflection on the blank screen (because I didn't want to appear vain and actually get my compact mirror out). Nope, nothing. What was this guy's problem?
A bit later on in the journey after a bit more ignoring I cautiously, suspiciously looked around in his direction again, to find him almost pointedly staring at the door to the next carriage, away from me. Good, I thought, now I can continue my personal journey in peace.
Finally Mr Sleepy's stop came and it was time for him to step off. Instead of just getting up and exiting the door right next to him though, he crossed the carriage to go through the doors just past me. I didn't think much of it as he did- I do stupid things like that all the time- but I avoided looking up because I was feeling a little bit embarrassed by now (like a real Londoner, rather than the social semi-freak that I am).
As the doors closed behind him I allowed myself to look up one last time at Mr Sleepy- who I still conceded was good-looking- and found him watching me right back as he headed up the stairs and my train pulled away.
The penny dropped. Oh. Damn. If only I'd just smiled.
At least I can add this to the growing list of incidents involving the Y chromosome (since my ex knocking the confidence-stuffing out of me four times over, that is) that assure me that I'm not an utter troll. And to Mr Sleepy- in the unlikely event that you're reading this- I was the girl on the Northern Line to Edgware in the Totoro T-shirt with the long brown hair. Sorry I didn't twig- I'm smiling now to make up for it.
~Fin~
*Sometimes to pass the time I temporarily name my fellow passengers- the guy next to Mr Sleepy was Brighteyes because he had really striking eyes, the girl next to him Wondergirl Assassin because she was stunning, had really sleek black hair and looked like she could be a glamorous assassin, and the guy next to me was Mr I-Got-No-Strings because he'd fallen asleep in a completely slumped position also popular with train snoozers, like a puppet with all the strings cut.
Saturday, 23 June 2012
Romantically Challenged: Rejector and Rejectee in One Day
I swear, this sort of crazy stuff can only happen to me. This happened only a few days ago.
I've been on jury service for a couple of weeks now (my last day this coming Monday, in fact), and I got asked out by a guy I'd been talking to for while that I'd been sort of hoping that he wouldn't (I liked him well enough, but not in that way, and was dreading having to hurt his feelings). It was difficult trying to be friendly but not too friendly since I'd loathe to be one of these girls that just leads people on. Anyway I felt a bit cruddy because he's a nice guy overall and I admired his courage to ask, and I know well enough the sting of rejection myself- but it'd be crueller to say yes when you already know you have no intention of anything going further, I think.
In any case, this guy's courage gave me the courage to ask after another guy who'd caught my eye, working in a chocolate shop in London a few days earlier (I know I know, I sound terrible- I'm not what this sounds like, honest!) If the guy at court had the guts to ask me, I thought, then I shouldn't let myself down by being a wimp and I should go and ask after chocolate shop guy. Although going around fancying random people I've only seen once before and then asking after them right away isn't something I'm used to, it wouldn't have been the first time I'd expressed my interest in someone to their faces (it was only one time, and I ended up with them for three years, so it was worth something at least!) So that's where I went when court was adjourned that day.
A bit of background: I had gone to this chocolate shop with one of my best friends the day before and noticed this guy when he brought out some samples for us to try. I mortified myself by trying to open conversation by asking him 'so... are you much of a chocolate guy then?' (What a question to ask someone who works in a chocolate shop...) I decided I liked him even more when he didn't poke fun at me for that.
To continue the story, I met up with my friend/ partner in crime in town first (who happened to be visiting from Birmingham for a few days and who's sharp eyes had noticed my interest in this guy when we'd visited the shop together the day before), along with another of her friends she was meeting up with, and they came with me for moral support. I was a little glad that the guy wasn't actually there so I could just ask one of his colleagues, but I was about to be even more glad of his absence.
After walking around looking at chocolate and plucking up as much courage as possible, and telling myself I wouldn't be struck down dead on the spot for asking, I finally went to the counter and asked, bashfully, if she knew the tall guy with blue eyes who was working there the other day, because I thought I quite liked the look of him (or something silly like that- I was having a hard enough time getting the words out from sheer embarrassment to focus on what I was actually saying). The lady grinned playfully.
'Aah,' she said, 'are we on the pull, then?'
I think I must have gone beetroot red by then and laughed near hysterically whilst saying something like, 'I guess, when you put it that way, I sort of am!?' It had never really occurred to me to think about it like that, and although I'm no pure shrinking violet and and pretty much unshockable, all I knew was I was hoping to get to know someone better (through talking!!) and was suddenly getting a concept that I hadn't bargained for. I think it was mainly the extreme sheepishness I was feeling about the whole thing that made me less than my usual eloquent self.
'Let's see...' The lady went into the little staff room thing and looked up who I might have been talking about on the staff rota. She came back and sighed, smiling sympathetically.
'He's got a girlfriend.'
Bugger.
We chatted a little and and I did buy some stuff (cocoa nibs for making truffles- expect a recipe to go up on my other blog Tashcakes! soon). I told the lady how glad I was he wasn't there in the end to endure this awful embarrassing moment- because I quite like that chocolate shop, and I'd like to visit it again without dreading if he'd be there or not.
'Well I'll let you know if he ever becomes available', the lady laughed. 'And don't worry!' She winked at me. 'I won't tell him!'
Of course she will, it's bloody hilarious- I don't mind though, I would too if I were her! At least he probably won't rememeber me, so I can continue to buy chocolate there in peace.
And that's the story of how I got asked out and declined the offer, and a few hours later got indirectly shot down upon plucking up the courage to ask after someone else.
Romantically challenged!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read out this entry for another story about that same chocolate shop.
I've been on jury service for a couple of weeks now (my last day this coming Monday, in fact), and I got asked out by a guy I'd been talking to for while that I'd been sort of hoping that he wouldn't (I liked him well enough, but not in that way, and was dreading having to hurt his feelings). It was difficult trying to be friendly but not too friendly since I'd loathe to be one of these girls that just leads people on. Anyway I felt a bit cruddy because he's a nice guy overall and I admired his courage to ask, and I know well enough the sting of rejection myself- but it'd be crueller to say yes when you already know you have no intention of anything going further, I think.
In any case, this guy's courage gave me the courage to ask after another guy who'd caught my eye, working in a chocolate shop in London a few days earlier (I know I know, I sound terrible- I'm not what this sounds like, honest!) If the guy at court had the guts to ask me, I thought, then I shouldn't let myself down by being a wimp and I should go and ask after chocolate shop guy. Although going around fancying random people I've only seen once before and then asking after them right away isn't something I'm used to, it wouldn't have been the first time I'd expressed my interest in someone to their faces (it was only one time, and I ended up with them for three years, so it was worth something at least!) So that's where I went when court was adjourned that day.
A bit of background: I had gone to this chocolate shop with one of my best friends the day before and noticed this guy when he brought out some samples for us to try. I mortified myself by trying to open conversation by asking him 'so... are you much of a chocolate guy then?' (What a question to ask someone who works in a chocolate shop...) I decided I liked him even more when he didn't poke fun at me for that.
To continue the story, I met up with my friend/ partner in crime in town first (who happened to be visiting from Birmingham for a few days and who's sharp eyes had noticed my interest in this guy when we'd visited the shop together the day before), along with another of her friends she was meeting up with, and they came with me for moral support. I was a little glad that the guy wasn't actually there so I could just ask one of his colleagues, but I was about to be even more glad of his absence.
After walking around looking at chocolate and plucking up as much courage as possible, and telling myself I wouldn't be struck down dead on the spot for asking, I finally went to the counter and asked, bashfully, if she knew the tall guy with blue eyes who was working there the other day, because I thought I quite liked the look of him (or something silly like that- I was having a hard enough time getting the words out from sheer embarrassment to focus on what I was actually saying). The lady grinned playfully.
'Aah,' she said, 'are we on the pull, then?'
I think I must have gone beetroot red by then and laughed near hysterically whilst saying something like, 'I guess, when you put it that way, I sort of am!?' It had never really occurred to me to think about it like that, and although I'm no pure shrinking violet and and pretty much unshockable, all I knew was I was hoping to get to know someone better (through talking!!) and was suddenly getting a concept that I hadn't bargained for. I think it was mainly the extreme sheepishness I was feeling about the whole thing that made me less than my usual eloquent self.
'Let's see...' The lady went into the little staff room thing and looked up who I might have been talking about on the staff rota. She came back and sighed, smiling sympathetically.
'He's got a girlfriend.'
Bugger.
We chatted a little and and I did buy some stuff (cocoa nibs for making truffles- expect a recipe to go up on my other blog Tashcakes! soon). I told the lady how glad I was he wasn't there in the end to endure this awful embarrassing moment- because I quite like that chocolate shop, and I'd like to visit it again without dreading if he'd be there or not.
'Well I'll let you know if he ever becomes available', the lady laughed. 'And don't worry!' She winked at me. 'I won't tell him!'
Of course she will, it's bloody hilarious- I don't mind though, I would too if I were her! At least he probably won't rememeber me, so I can continue to buy chocolate there in peace.
And that's the story of how I got asked out and declined the offer, and a few hours later got indirectly shot down upon plucking up the courage to ask after someone else.
Romantically challenged!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Read out this entry for another story about that same chocolate shop.
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