It Was Awkward While It Lasted.
Coffee Shop: Newport Starbucks @ PCH & Bayside, Newport Starbucks @ PCH & Riverside
Note: This post breaches one of my cardinal rules about blogging; keep it short and sweet. Still, if you’re truly interested in the depths of my awkwardness, this one is for you. Trust me.
I’ve been keeping this story on the back-burner for a while because it was still simmering, but I’m pretty sure it’s done now. Ready to be doled to the readers of this site.
In order to fully understand this post, some background reading is required. I made a post about a Fellow Regular (FR) a while back with the condition that if I were to start talking to her again, the post would be immediately removed. Well, as fate would have it, removal of the post was required. The post is now back up, and you can read it here.
Alright. All caught up? Good.
The new chapter in this story begins with me being productive. I’d recently started writing actual pages on a new script, which lead to me spending more time at Starbucks. This additional time at Starbucks led to me running into FR again, and, as you’ve probably assumed, I acted awkwardly. A failed Michael Caine joke, a story about how people get high by dipping cigarettes in formaldehyde, etc.
Still, things didn’t go too awry, and actual conversations were had. I even saw her at one of the Starbucks locations I’d told her I alternated to. I was driving out as she was driving in. Did she go there because I’d mentioned that I am there from time to time?
This is when I’d finally resolved I’d had enough of being awkward. I was going to act like a normal person, maybe even be vaguely charismatic. It really couldn’t be that hard. Could it?
So, I’m sitting, doing work, when FR walks in. I smile, she smiles, I take off my headphones, and it goes a little something like this…
Brad: Hello.
FR: Hi. Do you want to marry me?
At this point all hope of not being awkward has just been smashed at over 99% the speed of light causing little higgs boson particles to come flying out.
Brad: What?
FR: Do you want to marry me?
Before I continue, let me explain my thought process leading to my next statement. I’m thinking maybe this is all a corny joke because we see each other so much. “Maybe we should just get married, har har.”
Brad: Did I see you at the other Starbucks?
FR: Yeah. But do you want to get married?
Brad: Sounds like it could be fun, but maybe we should go on a date first. Can I pick you up at 8?
Wait. No. That’s not what I said. That would have been smooth. This is how it actually went…
Brad: Did I see you at the other Starbucks?
FR: Yeah. But do you want to get married?
Brad: Uhhhhhh-
FR: I need to get in-state tuition, and the only way I can become a resident fast enough is to get married.
Brad: Ohhh. Well, I’m not really in the marrying mood.
Yes, that’s what I actually said.
FR: Okay, well if you know anyone that would want to get married.
Brad: I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.
FR: Oh, I’m just joking.
Brad: Oh.
FR: But not really.
Brad: Oh.
After a bit of silence, we actually managed to start a normal conversation where she tells me about creepers that hit on her at Starbucks, I tell her about some of the weird stuff I’ve witnessed (without mentioning the blog), a creeper actually ends up talking to her for a bit, I make a joke that the creeper would marry her, etc. She even took a phone call at one point, then came back in to tell me that her dad didn’t think that it was a good idea that she get married.
Well, that was probably the most awkward moment I could have had talking to this person, and it’d passed. It’s all downhill from here.
No.
The story isn’t finished.
I tell this story to a couple of friends. These friends are convinced that FR is hitting on me. What if they are right? But I don’t want to be a creeper. Maybe I should just ask her out to coffee. That would be funny and charming because we always see each other at coffee in the first place, right? I decide to think on it.
A few days go by and I run into her again (at the alternate Starbucks). Small talk is had. Smiles and exchanged.
A few more days and I run into her again, but only very briefly.
Now, though, I’m beginning to think that maybe my friends were right. Besides, what’s the harm in asking someone out to coffee? The worst thing they could say is no. Right?
So I make a mental decision. The next time I see her, I won’t be awkward, I’ll try to be charming, then I’ll ask her out to coffee. For those that don’t know me, this is extremely out of character.
Now I’m sitting in Starbucks, being relatively productive, when FR walks in and takes a seat next to me.
Brad: Hey.
FR: Hey.
Brad: How’s the spouse hunt going?
FR: Oh, I got married yesterday.
Brad: Haha.
FR: No. Seriously. I married this guy I used to date. Down at the courthouse.
Brad: Wow.
As she continued to describe the humorous details of the ceremony, my first thought was, “Phew. Now I don’t have to ask her out.” Of course, the details of her story took an interesting turn…
FR: Yeah, and I even had to kiss the guy in front of the judge. It was really awkward.
Brad: Oh?
FR: Yeah. And I think the guy might have the wrong idea about us because he was texting me this morning.
Hold the phone. Is she going out of her way to downplay this marriage?
So, as always, small talk is had and way too much coffee is consumed. As a matter of fact, I get completely jacked up on caffeine. This is when I start thinking that I need to start doing things that aren’t very Brad-like. Go out on a limb.
I make a decision. I’ll ask her if it would be weird if I asked her out now that she is married. It’s an easy question to either turn down (”Yeah, that might be a little weird right now…”) or accept (”No. Adultery rocks!”).
Now let me set the scene. I’m packing up my stuff as FR gets some coffee. As I stand by the door, ready to leave, she is standing at the creamer counter next to me. My hand is already on the doorknob.
FR: You taking off?
Brad: Yeah…. Say, can I ask you a hypothetical question… Now that you’re married would it be weird if I asked you out to coffee?
So did she say yes or no? Neither. She stared at me, silent. It felt like an eternity, but was actually about four long seconds. Four seconds of silence, eyes locked. This is the one horrifying scenario that I hadn’t considered. Count out four Mississippis. It’s longer than you think.
Brad: Wow, that was weird. Sorry.
At this point, I’ve already opened the door and started backing out while still facing her. Like a man worried to turn his back on someone he’s just held at gunpoint, I slip out the door and make my escape.
Here is another thing I didn’t expect. I felt great. It wasn’t so much the way the situation played out, but that I’d done something that I didn’t expect from myself. I’d liken it to racing a car. You may lose, but damn if it doesn’t make you happy just from going fast.
Anyway, that was it. That was the pinnacle of awkwardness. I asked out a girl that had been married for less than 48 hours, and was met with silence. I then avoided that Starbucks for about a week. Then changed my schedule a bit. Then after a while ran into FR again, and a couple of times after that. We both pretend like the encounter never took place and still make some small talk.
Congratulations if you made it this far, and, as with the previous post, this one will spontaneously disappear should I ever mention this website to her during aforementioned small talk.
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That’s pretty much the best story ever.
If I can make a request. I’d like you to iPhone a picture of her. That won’t be awkward at all!
That is unbelivable. First of all, it’s hilarious that you would ask out a ‘married’ chick, especially after she asked you to marry her a few days earlier. How can you not pull the trigger on a line like that.
Secondly, something that I’ve battled with, beaten myself up over, and hated myself for… is not acting. I’ve had situations (all of which I vividly remember) where I had an opportunity to ask someone out, or just go for it, and I didn’t… and they all still stay with me to this very day.
So you went for it. And at the end of the day, you got 2 things;
#1. A hilarious story
#2. No regrets; you acted, and can’t feel bad about that.
You should ask her to divorce that guy and be with you instead.
I smell a novella, Brad. You’re on the way to something nothing short of ‘Tristessa’ for the Information Age. Keep the title, name the girl Ernesta, and slap a ‘15% off for Barnes & Noble Members’ sticker on the cover and you’re golden.
Oh, and I’m with Mr. Cox — this requires a photo.
Well, I’m glad you all enjoyed the story. Unfortunately I’m going to have to deny a picture request because not only would that be horribly awkward, but it might also ruin the mystique of the story.
Also, Chris, I must salute your ability to consistently make me feel like a philistine.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a novella to write.