Little Miss Awkward

This fall, I suddenly found myself in two situations I had not encountered in quite some time: I was single and I had free time. (I once did a mock interview in college and when the interviewer asked me what I did in my free time, we both started laughing.) Naturally, I thought that I should give dating a try, given my fantastic track record and the fact that I love people.

Being my socially awkward self, the only way I could think of finding datable people was through technology and the app Tinder seemed like a viable option. For those of you less updated on modern technology than myself (hi mom), Tinder is a dating app for shallow people who are too lazy to fill out a profile for an on-line site; a description that fits me like a glove. (But not the ones I got for Christmas, those are a little tight. Like a well-fitting glove.)

I have to admit that I got a little hooked on Tinder; being your most shallow self while judging people based on solely picture, name, and age can be a lot of fun. After two weeks of addiction, suddenly I found myself in a most unfamiliar and daunting situation: I had to go on dates with people I did not know. As evident here and here, socializing with the opposite sex is not one of my fortes.

If nothing else, I learned quite a bit about myself during this time, amongst other things that I am really bad at accepting compliments and that I have quite the knack for ruining moments.

Picture this: It’s one of those crisp, but not too cold wintery Sundays. The date has come to an end after a pleasant afternoon of wandering through a new sculpture park. The guy had even brought a flask of home-made hot chocolate to share while enjoying one of the best views of the city the surrounding hills has to offer. At the bus stop, the sun is setting quite magnificently (Thanks, winter pollution) and the electronic notice board tells them her bus is two minutes away. A pause in the conversation as they gaze into each other’s eyes. Or, he is at least, she has a vaguely puzzled look on her face. The relatively calm exterior hides the chaos within: “What is that look in his eyes? Is he about to kiss me? Am I ok with that? What if I don’t remember what to do? I hardly know this person. What? What WHAT?” She takes a deep breath, opens her moth and: “Fun fact: Did you know that when you flush the toilet, aerosols containing particles of whatever was in that toilet remains airborne for over two hours. Poop is literally flying around in your bathroom! That’s why you should always close the lid.” A quick hug is all they have time for before she has to jump on the bus.

This is from my house, and winter pollution has never looked so good.

Yeah, I’m real good under pressure… Another notable mention is when I told a guy I had skin fungus after he complemented me for my soft skin. It’s totally true and not as gross as one would think. It just looks like dry skin and if I was the kind of person that would tan during summer, the places with fungus would not tan. I have tried to get rid of it, but nothing has worked so far and I’m way too lazy to see a specialist just for a little dry skin. And anyways, after all this time, we’ve kind of made peace and I almost feel a kinship with it. I call it Beatrice, after the place I was contracted: Biarritz, France. The Beckhams and I: naming our kids after where they were conceived. They guy did not seem that convinced about Beatrice’s non-contagiousness, though…

Please be kind and let me know that I’m not a weirdo all by myself. What is the most embarrassing or weirdest thing you’ve ever done on a date?