I love seeing people I know on my way to classes. I love that warm, fuzzy feeling I get which says that yeah, I’m cool because I have people I can wave to more obnoxiously than a clingy mother. Sometimes, I even loudly scream out their names or weirdly brush their arms so they know it’s real. I’m obviously very popular and well-adapted to social situations.
Consequently, I was extremely thrilled to see a familiar back-of-the-head on my way to class last week.
Overcome with excitement, I allowed him to walk a few paces, so I would have enough room for a running start. I braced myself, then bolted full-speed ahead. I weaved in and out of the rush of students with the speed, grace and agility of an Olympic hurdler — objectively speaking, of course.
My target was in sight, and I was almost there. I bent my knees in preparation for my launch. In three, two, one, I took off, jumped with all my energy and landed perfectly onto my friend’s back.
He doubled over, stumbling forward and almost taking out the multitude of people in front of him. I was very impressed with myself for the small-girl-big-impact situation that had just occurred.
While I was mentally bowing and modestly accepting praise from my adoring fans, my friend recovered his composure. I stood there, eyes glimmering from the validation of a successful surprise attack. He turned around to greet me and — I was sure — to congratulate me on my incredible performance as a track star/amateur gymnast.
Instead, I was greeted by a very blunt, “What the hell?!”
Definitely not the reaction I was anticipating. Probably because the guy I had just ambushed was not my friend.
I wanted nothing more than to lie down on the middle of the sidewalk and curl into fetal position — obviously the only solution to the impending crisis. Unfortunately for me, tons of people were walking to class around me. How inconsiderate of them to not pick up on my despair and automatically clear a space.
I was forced to deal with the situation at hand instead. I did so very smoothly and graciously. My hands flailing, eyes wide enough to be manga-worthy, I expressed great concern and remorse by gasping, “No — what? Wait, you’re totally my friend Jooney!”
He still was not.
Realizing this may not have been the right thing to say, based on his appalled look and instinctive prepping to bolt from the psycho who had all but publicly taken him down, I tried to remedy the situation.
“Sorry. Sometimes I just have too much enthusiasm. It’s just a thing. Like, I just have so much energy and I got really excited because I want to say, ‘hi’ but then stuff like this happens and it’s not even you, but I totally thought it was you so I thought it would be funny and I guess it wasn’t and wow, this is super awkward.”
Sumedha Deshmukh, model of eloquence and class. I’m thinking of having business cards printed for cases of subsequent word vomit.
Though he was clearly not impressed whatsoever by my social skills, my non-friend somehow found it in himself to mumble a quick, “Yeah, whatever, it’s fine.” With a smooth pivot and light jog, he quickly made his escape, complete with high hopes he never runs into me again. And if you’re reading this: I’m really sorry.
I honestly wish I could justify this encounter in some way, or write it off as unusual for me — but I can’t. Though I’m aware of my astonishing tendency to end up in strange and uncomfortable situations, I am still prone to casually jump on my friends from time to time.
Maybe I should adapt and conform to social norms, like greeting people with a simple “hey” or a “what’s up?” I have a feeling that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun, though. So, even though there are several more awkward encounters to come, I’m going to keep doing me. I apologize in advance if you’re my next victim.
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