Video Chat with Birbigs

My normal blog schedule has been pleasantly interrupted by this piece of news:  I get to have a short video chat with my favorite stand-up comedian (and giant inspiration for this blog), Mike Birbiglia!  If you haven't seen or heard his stand-up, go here.  He'll also be in Chicago in October (for all of you I miss dearly in Illinois).  I'll be attending his November show in Atlanta for sure.

Anyway, I'm not here to brag; I'm here to ask you all for help.  For being one of the first people to pre-order his book, I get to meet him via video-chat on Tuesday.  If you know me, this opportunity could either be really awesome or a horrible disaster.  Don't let this near-future event become an Awkward-Amy blog post!  Help me pick what I should ask him or give me advice on how to not turn this into an awkward mess!

Possible questions to ask Mike Birbiglia:

1)  Will you marry me? Check "Yes" or "No." (Then I hold up a sign with check boxes by "Yes" and "No")
2)  What's your favorite color?
3)  Could Jesus microwave a burrito so hot that he himself could not eat it?
4)  Can we hang out when you're in Atlanta?
5)  Did you ever find that porn that destroys lives?
6) Will you follow my blog (come on, man, I bought your book!)?
7) Are you in the market for an editor with pretty much no experience but the ability to work for next to nothing?
8) Do your cats hate tags as much as my cat does?  If not, what sorts of things do your cats not like?

See!  I need your help!

Does this picture make me look crazy?  Whatever, it's awesome; you know it.

Help me please with your comments!

-Amy

Well.....GOODBYE! (Part One)

Exits can be awkward sometimes.  I try to be polite when saying goodbye to someone new, and if I know the context for the meeting or conversation, then I usually know the right thing to say when parting ways.  For example, I might say after a job interview, "I'll look forward to hearing from you."  To a new friend:  "Give me a call sometime."  To a customer, "Thanks, and have a good day!"  You get what I mean.

But here's where it has a potential to get awkward:  What if there is no context?  What if you have no reason to be talking to this particular person?  Should you always say goodbye after random conversations?

The random-conversation-with-strangers-thing happens a lot in Georgia.  Usually it's kinda nice and mostly uneventful, but I sometimes feel awkward when the random conversation stops or when I have to walk away from the stranger.

This happened at a Golden Dragon Acrobats show Keith and I saw last recently.  We had pretty good seats at the outdoor amphitheater (it was super hot out!).  Fifteen minutes before the show, our row was looking pretty empty.  A few moments later, a woman talking on a cell phone came walking down the aisle towards us.  Although mostly all of the seats were empty at that time, her ticket--of course--was for the seat right next to mine. For the next five minutes, there was nobody around us except for my new elbow buddy to my right.  And my poor artistic rendering below does not accurately illustrate the awkwardness of the situation.  Let's just say, in real life, none of us looked like stick figures.  We were one couple and one stranger squished together in a sea of empty seats.

Since the woman was talking on her cell, I heard, when I wanted to, everything she was saying.  I was in and out of conversation with Keith, so I didn't hear every word, and it wasn't like I was intentionally eves-dropping.  But my awkward radar is always on, picking up tense moments are uncomfortable silences everywhere within my line of sight and range of hearing.  This one was only inches away.  I saw her hand go over her mouth and heard the volume of her voice drop.  This call was about to get interesting:

"Keesha, it was all rolled up like a Vienna sausage," she whispered into her phone.

What?

The person she was talking to had to have been deaf.  I could hear the sentence clearly, but for some reason, Keesha could not.  The woman to my side let out a few embarrassed oh-my-god-why-am-I-telling-this-story-in-public giggles, and attempted to retransmit the information.

"I said:  Keeshaaaaaah, it was...ALL...ROLLED...UP...like a Vienna sausage!

She had to repeat this phrase a few more times for the person on the other line, and then she ended the conversation shortly thereafter.  Don't ask what they were talking about; I was unable to discern any more information.  One could hypothesize, though...haha!

Anyway, after that, more people started to fill in the empty chairs around us, the awkwardness subsided (for the meantime), and the show started.  It was pretty a good show, too, which meant that expressions of awe and amazement were shared with the stranger closely seated to my right.  By exchanging little remarks like, "How is he still walking after that!?" and "Hahaha!  Holy crap!" and, during intermission, "What kind of food do they got up there?" we became less than strangers.  But we never learned each others' names, and this presented some problems when the show was over.  How do you say goodbye to someone you don't really know?  It felt like I should have said something, but here's what I couldn't say:

Nice to meet you.--I never really met her and didn't know anything about her.

Hope you enjoyed the show!--I don't work there, and it's not up to me to hope she enjoyed the show.

Well, it was nice watching the show with you! *Followed by a wave or handshake.*

That last one could have worked.  But the show was over, and my brain isn't that fast when I'm trying to not be awkward.  Instead, it just goes, "BLAAAH!" and I walk quickly away, which I did...and probably came across as rude.  But, what else are you going to do when you're the over-analyzing Queen of Uncomfortable Situations?
                                                                                                                                                                                                    

 

Pictures of the neat-o fan I got from the Golden Dragon Acrobats "Cirque D'Or" show!

Part Two coming soon (I promise?).

Well....goodbye!  Haha!

-Amy

Triad of Ridiculousness: Part Three (Finally!)

It's hard to spread out one day's events over the course of three weeks, but I managed to do it.  Here's the final story of my Friday, June 18th, 2010.  Enjoy!

Please Be Patient While I Beat This Person Up

After the first two awkward situations, I wanted to go home and finish my day by hiding from all the crazy outside.  But before I could get there, I had to take my chances battling the streets of Atlanta.  Like always, it would not be an easy drive home.

Things started out smoothly enough, and I was almost home without incident...until I passed this gas-station.  And then this car pulled out in front of me.  And then this car and I stopped at a red light.  And then the driver of that car started beating up her passenger.

Yay!  I got to witness some good-old-fashioned-battery-fun!

This is how it happened:

The light turned green and I noticed the car in front of me wasn't moving.  Then I saw the driver take off her seat-belt.  She turned to whoever was in her passenger seat and started throwing punches, and she was throwing them pretty hard.  I even saw a couple elbows mixed in there.

Whoever was in the passenger seat didn't fight back.  I really hope it wasn't a kid.  If I knew it was a kid, I definitely would have called the cops, but I couldn't tell.

So, I had been sitting behind this car for a couple seconds while Crazy was wailing on her passenger, and cars were starting to line up behind me.  The light was green, and I wanted to go home.  Plus, I felt bad for whoever was getting beat up.  So I did what most people in my situation would do:  I honked.

Then she gave me the finger:  a long, middle finger with a slightly curved, two-inch fake nail on it.

Seriously, how rude of me!  How dare I not sit silently and patiently in my car during a green light while this lady blocking traffic beats someone up.  Clearly, I had forgotten my manners.

After a brief contest to figure out whose middle finger was better (mine won), she slammed on the gas and turned into the parking lot of a "Cash Your Checks Here" store.  Perhaps she needed some money to fix any fake nails broken during her moment of assault.  As for my night, I went home and had a great time writing my blog and ignoring the constant insanity happening outside my door.

-Amy

Triad of Ridiculousness: Part Two

Not You...But Maybe A Friend?

In case you're wondering, today was a lot more "chill" than last Friday was. But I have to continue with these stories because a triad isn't a triad without three.  Plus, this next one just does not make sense to me, and maybe someone can help to interpret it.

Okay, so remember:  I had just gotten a super crazy voicemail from a lady who was mad at me for mailing a magazine to her dead husband.  After listening to her rage-filled mumbles, I thought, "On that note, I'm going to lunch."  Since my job is awesome, and I get an hour for lunch, I decided to go to a Target one town over in a quest to find a shirt that was on clearance but out of my size at my local Target.

Bad decision.  First, they were also out of that particular shirt.  Second, I had another strange encounter that I was forced to over-analyze frequently for days after (without further understanding).

After picking out a few things I wanted to buy, I went to a cashier to checkout.  While ringing up my stuff...it happened!  She spoke the words that always come before something ridiculous ensues:  "This is going to sound weird, but"...(*In my head:*  "CRAP!")..."do you know anyone who would want to be on TV?"

What?

Me:  *Awkward giggle* "I don't know.  On TV for what?"
Cashier:  *Ignores question; gives me a quick but visibly disappointed look-over* "Maybe...someone with long hair?"

Let's break this down and analyze the thoughts that my brain was able to muster during this seconds-only conversation:

Thought #1:  Be on TV?  That could be cool.
Thought #2:  Wait, why is a Target cashier asking me if I want to be on TV?
Thought #3:  Waaaaait, why is she looking at me like that?
Thought #4:  Hey, what's wrong with my hair?!  My hair's frickin awesome! (true)
Thought #5:  Maybe she's a hairstylist who's going to be on TV for something?

Me:  "Are you a hairstylist?"
Cashier:  "No.  I'm a producer for Fox News.  We're looking for women who want to be on TV.  I was thinking maybe some friends of yours might be interested?" *Writes something down on receipt and hands it to me* "Here's my number if you know anyone."
Me:  "Oh, okay...cool, thanks."

Thought #6:  No, not cool.
Thought #7:  Wouldn't want to be on Fox News anyway.
Thought #8:  WAIT!  Why would a producer for Fox News have to also work as a cashier at a Target?!

Nothing that happened during that conversation made any sense.  But the most awkward part was when she pretty much said, "You're not really TV material, but you look like you might have friends that are!"  Haha!  I must admit, though, I do have some pretty good looking girlfriends!  And they all mostly have longer-ish hair.  If I didn't live half a day away from everyone, I might have passed along the number.  But probably not because I'm pretty sure that lady was a giant sack of Target cashier lies.  Other than that, she seemed pretty nice.  Haha!

This drawing is far from accurate...but hope you like it anyway!  It's titled, "Getting Rejected By A Cashier at Target."  I know you're jealous by how artsy and complex I am!

Stay tuned for Part Three and maybe something fun and random before that.

-Amy

Triad of Ridiculousness: Part One

My stories of awkward hilarity are starting to backlog, but I want to start on today's occurrences (it was nonstop!) while they're somewhat fresh in my memory.  So I hope you enjoy the Triad of Ridiculousness, which includes this post and the next two.

That Damn Magazine!

One awkward part of my otherwise insanely awesome job is the calls I get when people want to cancel subscriptions.  I've since quit asking for reasons, but usually they volunteer the information anyway probably from the expectation that I'll ask.  Today I got one of those calls, and I'm so happy I wasn't around to answer the phone.  The voicemail went like this:

"Hi, Amy.  My name is Mrs. blah. My husband, blah, has been dead since February.  Will you please stop sending that damn magazine?!" *click*

Like any normal person would, I have some problems with this message.  First, if you're a stranger and plan on leaving me a crazy voicemail, don't include my name.  We're not on a first-name basis, and you creep me out. 

My second issue pertains the vagueness of the message.  I took out the names and replaced them with "blah" for a reason.  Of course, I'm not going to identify anyone, but I couldn't give you the names if I wanted to.  The person did not announciate clearly or spell the it out for me.

Now, not only do I not have a name, I don't have any sort of address or contact information to search by.  I can't call back this woman to get the information I need to cancel their subscription because she was a jerk and hung up without leaving a phone number.

Third problem:  we publish seven magazines.  That Damn Magazine is not one of them.

Forth problem:  we never got a letter from those people who send notices to businesses when someone dies.  Oh...really?  Oh yeah, that is right.  Those people don't exist.  I just made that thing up right now.  Really?  Usually the family notifies us that they don't need the magazine anymore?  Oh yeah, that sounds right.  They're usually not jerks about it? That's good.  Being a jerk about it would put me in an uncomfortable situation, even though I have no ill-intentions or control over her problem (I'm not all-knowing...yet!).

Of course I'm sorry for her loss, but it should be obvious that there's no way I can be aware of her situation unless she notifies me somehow. It's not like I sit at my desk all day and mail magazines to dead people while laughing evilly.

Here's the "sucky" part:  this problem isn't even over.  This very awkward voicemail got me (and her) nowhere, and next month I'll be getting another phone call.  She will likely be more mad next time around.  Awesome. 

Did some good come out of this?  Yes.  I got to forward the message to my coworkers, which resulted in a few laughs.  Am I going to hell if it in some form exists?  Likely.  But maybe my knowledge of voicemail etiquette will lead to at least some minor success there.

 Laterrrrrrsssssss!
-Amy

Unwritten Rules of Georgia Driving #1

Welcome to the School of Awkward Awareness and Prevention.  I'll be your professor.

The first step to avoiding an awkward situation is knowing where and when you're likely to encounter one.  According to the ASOA --Amy's Scale of Awkwardness (awaiting recognition from the scientific community)--car accidents and near misses are two of the worst circumstances you can find yourself in.  If you cause the accident, you have to deal with an onslaught of uncomfortable confrontations with the other driver, your passengers, police officers, insurance agents, etc.  It's bad.  With a near miss, you might encounter the other driver when stopped and be forced into the always nerve-wracking exchange of insults or death-stares.

When accidents aren't your fault, the awkwardness of the situation is more in your favor, but this is not guaranteed.  The other driver could be crazy and try to blame the accident on you.  Worse, they could be drunk, and then you have to battle your urge to punch them in the face.  Not fun. 

All in all, these are situations to avoid, if possible.  To help those who wish to challenge the death trap that is the Georgia highway system, I'll be occasionally posting the unwritten rules of Georgia driving.  Enjoy! 

#1  It is unnecessary to be in the lane closest to where you are turning.  If there are other cars coming, go ahead and cut them off.  What's important is that you get to where you need to go.

If for some strange reason you misplaced your balls and feel it's "dangerous" to cut people off, it's perfectly fine to stop exactly where you are and block traffic for as long as it takes to get into the other lane.  Don't bother putting on your turn signal.  It should be clear to everyone else why you stopped in the middle of the road.
More to come!

-Amy

Location Location Location

Location can be everything when it comes to the development of an awkward situation.  It can be a coincidental occurrence (wrong place at the wrong time).  For example, I was at lunch with a few people from work today when a coworker mentioned that she recently saw an attractive cop and was pleasantly surprised to see that he was in shape.  As soon as she blurted out that cops tend to look pudgy, two uniformed cops walked near our table (in case you're wondering, they weren't in shape...haha!).  Awkward.  I don't think they heard, but still, were we at a different location, that awkward moment probably wouldn't have happened.

While most awkward situations tend to be more coincidental--which make for the best stories--some can be avoided if you're aware of the source's location...unless you have to pass by that location multiple times a day.

Thus, I give you today's blog post.

Some people have this idea that the south is pretty much a giant redneck bar where everyone is racist and illiterate.  I can't speak for all parts of the south, but I can say that Atlanta seems pretty average.  It's not as normal as McHenry, Illinois, but all big cities are going to have some characters.

I said Atlanta is pretty normal...but...I work outside the city.  My office is a few buildings away from, of course, a redneck bar where everyone is racist and illiterate!  And this if the only one I've come across yet.

The sight of this bar is enough to make me feel awkward/mad/frustrated all day.  See pictures below:

One side...

Reverse side...

These are the current marquee postings outside of this bar that I pass multiple times a day.  The arguments they both attempt to make are so flawed that I'm not even going to waste your time by stating the obvious (even backers of the Arizona law would find the first sign to be an embarrassing reference).

The place is as dirty as it is offensive. But does it create an awkward situation?  I'd say so...probably a more tense one than anything, which is the worst kind of awkward.  This marquee is right across the street from a taqueria, supermercado, and other businesses ran by Latinos.  I get upset driving past it; I can't imagine how they feel.

Oh....redneck bar...you're like school in summertime---no class.  But I'm jus sayinj.

-Amy