Thursday, February 7, 2013
For the Stranger in Hastings,
Saturday night, we made a last minute trip to Hastings to rent a movie. Before leaving our abode, I reluctantly laced up my Sorels and pulled a beanie on over my thick bob of hair. I did not want to face the cold. But if that meant soon I could be cuddled up to Brian with a bowl of popcorn and a movie, then so be it.
We are regulars to Hastings. The ponytail man who works there often chats our ear off because he has realized there is no chance he will scare us away. He thinks that's because we couldn't stand not renting our favorite movies there, but really, strange people just don't scare me. They never have. I feel more comfortable around odd and eccentric people. It's the normal people that worry me. And for the majority of people, upon first interaction they seem pretty normal. And that is why I am terrible at first impressions. When I first meet someone, they usually seem fairly normal.
That is when I panic and think, "Oi, I must act normal too! How does one act normal?!?"
And my worried attempt to act like a normal human when I meet another human results in me stuttering and nervously laughing. It's awkward for everyone.
Flashing back to Saturday night. We found our movie and got in line to rent it. There was one couple ahead of us. The girl was buying books.
And I thought to myself, "Oh goody, it's a person buying books. I wonder what books she is getting."
I think you can tell a lot about a person by the literature they choose to buy. So I rudely started to stare and squint, trying to make out the titles of the three mystery books. Before I was able to decipher the titles from a distance, the books were placed in a bag and given to their now rightful owner. Then, instead of leaving the store, the girl turned and walked toward me.
My initial thought was, "Oh no, she saw me staring at her and her books. She thinks I am a creeper. Am I a creeper?"
As I was trying to quickly come up with a solution to this dilemma, the girl caught me off guard by smiling warmly at me and asking, "Do you have a blog?"
"Uh, um, uh, yes. Yeah, I have a blog."
She then went on to tell me a friend showed her my blog and she really liked it.
In the meantime, my whole head felt like I'd stuck it in a fire pit, and I was doing my nervous giggle and nonsensically saying thanks over and over again. Then, just like that, the kind stranger was on her way out of the store. Then it occurred to me that I was an idiot and had failed to even ask her for her name. I was ashamed. So much that I thought proper punishment would be to rent Dear John and make myself watch it over and over again through the night until my eyes bled.
So this is for that kind stranger who approached me in Hastings. Hopefully you still even read my blog after my terrible first impression. If you are reading this and are the girl from Hastings, with strawberry blonde hair styled in the most adorable pixie cut, please let me know your name and if you have a blog I could read. You may comment below or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Kelsey Keller Weller
PS- What three books did you buy? I might just have to wonder for the rest of my life if this post doesn't find you. But I guess that would serve me right. One day, I will learn how to act normal. In my defense, I was slightly shocked that strangers even read this silly blog. Sometimes I think only my mom reads it, because that's what moms do. They support you in stuff even if you stink at it.