Mission: Avoid Awkwardness at All Costs

On Sunday evening, Sachi and I decided to go to the practice session after our swing dance class. We had never done this before, and we didn't know quite how it worked. There was about an hour between our class and the practice session when another class was taught, so we decided to spend the time eating dinner. We wandered around Washington Street, looking for restaurants that appealed to us. Sachi thought she knew of an Italian one, and I followed her. What I did not know was that she has no sense of direction and she was leading me the wrong way. So we decided to just try going into one of the restaurants nearby. First we entered a bar, which was dark, menacing, and weird, so we quickly escaped. We finally decided on a welcoming little pizzeria.

After we had looked at the menu and decided what we wanted, the woman at the counter said, "How can I help you?"

I immediately responded, "We would like a barbeque chicken pizza." The woman seemed to be ignoring me. That was when I realized that she was taking an order on the telephone, and didn't even notice me. Sachi did the rest of the talking in there from then on.

When we had finished our dinner, there was still time before the practice session, so we walked onto a bridge over the highway and watched the cars streaming below us. We soon began a game: we would straddle two lanes, and as the cars came below us, we would jump in place, pretending to step on them. It occured to both of us simultaneously that this was like DDR. Eventually, it was nearing 7:30, the time when the practice session would start. Or would it? We realized that we did not actually know when the practice sessions started.

"It's your job to ask them," Sachi insisted. "I don't like to do that kind of thing."

"If you don't like it, why don't you do it?" I asked, mixing up my words. "...er...I mean...if you like it, why do you do it...Person at nine o'clock! Let's stop jumping." As the person walked by, we simply stood there, gazing at the view. We didn't look so strange, anyway.

As we were walking towards the church where our dance classes are held, Sachi prompted me, "What are you supposed to do?"

"I'm supposed to ask Matt when the practice session starts. Let's see. What will I say..."

"I think this is the reason why I always do the talking. I don't like it, but you would probably mess it up. You have to learn to not be awkward. That will be your goal."

"To avoid awkwardness at all costs."

"Even if you have to die trying."

With that harangue still ringing in my ears, I walked confidently through the door. I then stamped my feet to shake the snow off of my shoes. It came out louder than I had expected.

"That's exactly the kind of thing I was talking about," Sachi hissed. "There's a class in there. Now they've probably heard us."

At that, I nearly bolted outside again. I caught myself, and let the door close slowly, as quietly as possible. As we walked through the hall, we heard sounds indicating that the class was indeed still in session. We found an inlet to another hall and stopped there to wait for the class to end. Suddenly, a woman found us and asked, "Are you looking for anyone?"

"No," we quickly responded, "we're just waiting for the swing dance class."

After she left, I asked Sachi, "Was that awkward?"

"It wasn't not awkward."

We decided to move because it could be awkward if our instructors were to walk by and we would ambush them from our niche and ask when the practice session starts. So we returned to the entrance area. Eventually, some people from our dance class came in, so we followed them. Yet when we reached the door to the dancing room, I was stuck.

"Go in," Sachi ordered, and naturally, I obeyed. The practice session was starting, so we didn't have to ask anyone anything. We had lots of fun, and improved our dancing skills. And we even managed to be pretty normal. Except...

"Philip! We're not trying to waltz!"

"Oh. I'm sorry."

-Philip