It's Totally Awkward Tuesday!
(Well, it's technically still Monday, but I know you're all hung over from the long weekend and won't really notice.)
Today's awkward story takes us back to 1999. I'm a senior in high school working at a local grocery store as a cashier, and I have made multiple friends at my job.
(Because, as you know, I'm awesome.)
So...I have a crush on this boy that works in Customer Service at the store. Okay, not really a boy. He's a kindofman because he's a few years older than me and smokes cigarettes. And has slept with half of the grocery store employees already. And listens to hard core rap. And drinks.
I, on the other hand, don't drink, smoke, listen to rap, sleep with anyone or make waves in the boat of any one's life whatsoever.
We are clearly made for each other.
So, when Customer Service Boy isn't taking smoke breaks, he "runs the floor". This is a fancy way of saying he's in charge of monitoring the cashiers and our lunches, breaks, cleaning of aisles when people let their children throw Prego containers on the floor, etc.
Heavy responsibility. So attractive.
Okay, so fast forward to a typical Friday night.
It's pay day. I and my good friend Pinky (obviously that's not her real name) decide to take a trip over to my place of employment to collect my weekly earnings and say hello to all my work friends.
(And of course, inconspicuously check out if Customer Service boy is working so we can stare at him.)
(Because I'm so good at hiding my crushes. )
On the way to the store, Pinky and I stop at a local smoothie joint. I buy my favorite Juice Stop Smoothie entitled the "America's Cup." It is delicious, and tasty, and I'm feeling confident.
Pinky and I arrive at the grocery store to retrieve my check from Customer Service. As we walk in, I see Customer Service Boy working the counter...and he is the one handing out checks.
As Pinky and I walk to the counter we squeak back and forth to each other "Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod he's working! He looks so good in green! Look at his hands! They're so muscular!"
We are also under the delusion that we are whispering.
But we are not.
I ask for my check from Customer Service Boy and he smiles as he hands it to me. I die. He then tells me I look nice while I attempt not to faint.
Somehow I walk away from the counter with my cashed check without saying anything stupid. Until. Just as I am almost out of earshot, Customber Service Boys shouts, "I'll see you tomorrow at 2:00 when you work!"
OH. MY. GOD.
Clearly Customer Service Boy has looked at the schedule to CHECK WHEN I AM WORKING!!!
Now, on that positive note, you would think that Pinky and I would quit while we are ahead and leave the store swiftly.
That's what a smart person would do.
I quickly decide I haven't seen enough of Customer Service Boy tonight. I need more.
I tell Pinky that I need gum.
No, it can't wait until later.
Yes, I have some on my car but it's old and hard.
Yes, I know it will soften if I just keep it in my mouth but I NEED GUM NOW!
She gives in.
We walk to the cash register adjacent from Customer Service and I purchase a packet of gum. That's it.
Customer Service boy is only 20 feet away and lazily leaning on his counter, smiling. I can tell he wants to say something to me.
Casually, I glance up and catch his eye and smile. He opens his mouth to speak.
(Be still my heart.)
The conversation goes something like this...
CS Boy: (leaning over counter) Hey, I thought you left.
Me: (Acting surprised at his voice) Oh! Yeah, I was going to, but Pinky wanted some gum.
Pinky: (rolls eyes and resists the urge to punch me in the nose.)
CS Boy: (strokes goatee.)
(I know. Ew.)
CS Boy: Well I'm glad you came back. What are you doing tonight?
Me: (mentally planning the colors of our wedding) Nothing. Just hanging with Pinky and drinking Smoothies! (coyly play with straw in Smoothie.)
CS Boy: Ooooh! I love those things! Which one did you get?
Now, keep in mind this is in a grocery store on a Friday night. Cash registers are ringing, people are talking, babies are crying...
Me: (holding up cup) It's an America's Cup!
CS Boy: (cupping hand to ear) A what??
Me: (louder) AMERICA'S CUP!
CS Boy: (shakes head.) I can't hear you.
It wasn't important. It was small talk. He didn't really care what I was drinking. He was probably just staring at my boobs. But, for some reason, the next few seconds occurred because I truly thought I was being cute and/or sexy and/or clever.
Ever so seductively, I placed my Styrofoam smoothie cup ON THE FLOOR and began to tell Customer Service Boy that I have an "America's Cup".
In Sign Language.
At some point in my 18 years of life, I had learned the Sign Language Alphabet.
(Also at some point in my life, I must have read in a "How To Be A Jackass" manual that spelling out A-M-E-R-I-C-A-S C-U-P to a dude in Sign Language would result in a romantic dinner invitation.)
In reality, spelling out anything in Sign Language when you are a) not deaf and b) not even signing the letters correctly, will result in an entire grocery store stopping what they are doing to stare at you in pity.
Pinky crawls under the cash register and sucks her thumb.
(Not really, but I wouldn't have blamed her if she had.)
After a few moments, I finish my Sign Language masterpiece and look up at Customer Service Boy for a reaction.
The look on his face is a mix between bewilderment and disgust. Thankfully, reading his facial expressions isn't necessary because his thoughts are being broadcast across his forehead like a neon CNN crawler.
"THIS IS WHY I DON'T DATE HIGH SCHOOL GIRLS ANYMORE"
If memory serves, Pinky dragged me out of the store before I could do anything else to confirm people's suspicions that I belonged in the nut house.
At least the Smoothie was good.
Be sure to come back and visit me on Thursday for TMI Thursdays. The story will involve the same Customer Service Boy and one of the most awkward/gross/weird instances of my life.