Yes, I called Dad today: we had a great conversation, as we almost always do, Father’s Day or not. Conversations with people I know are rarely awkward for me.
Today we were invited by J and P to a beach dinner at Esquimalt Lagoon. When we arrived, there were some comments about this being for Father’s Day, since many of us don’t have our fathers and many of us are not fathers ourselves. Kind of sad. Kind of nice.
Actually, it was really amazing. Great people. And the food! Seafood chowder. Corn on the cob. Salmon, sausages, breads, spreads, and salads. The day was beautiful. I was half expecting to see some of our usual posse, but, to my surprise, and a little trepidation, J and P were the only ones we knew. I really tried to do my best with small talk.
It’s just so hard for me, especially with new people, even when they are as nice as the guys on the beach. I hope I came off as being friendly. I can appear cold, bizarre, and, well, unfriendly, if I don’t watch it. My brother used to tease me about being boring. A silly childhood taunt, but for some reason it stuck with me (perhaps it’s just best to say nothing).
Today, as often happens in such social situations, I find myself shaking my head at myself.
“There will be a test later on everyone’s names, someone said.
“Oh,” I said, taking off my ball cap. “I guess I have my name on my cap. That could help!” And indeed, I was wearing my dragon boat cap, where my name is embroidered in red on the back.
“But that only helps if your cap is on backwards so your name is on the front so we can see it , the someone says, good naturedly.
“Well that way you know my name if you are looking at my butt,” I said with a smile, while inside I am recoiling in horror at what has just come out of my mouth. What the hell?
It was actually a bit of a conversation killer.
However, later, I met two other couples and enjoyed the talking to them with no weird bizarre statements. Mike happened to take a picture. A and V are sitting at the picnic table with me, and I wish I could remember the names of the other two, who are standing nearby. Nice guys, too.
I want to know where this awkwardness comes from, why it comes out in some situations, but not others. It’s like an unwelcome, wild creature who shows up in unexpected places. Frankly, I’d like to tame it. Perhaps I should make a point to talk to people I don’t know. You know, practice? I’m going to try it.
See June 24, in a pending entry called “How Can You Not Love This Guy.” Mike didn’t just happen to take a picture. I just couldn’t see it here.