Why did I ever think this was a good idea?
I went to a holiday party. You could say it was an office holiday party. I was talked into this. I lasted less than two hours.
At my age I should be good at this. I should be able to make small talk. I should not be in a the middle of a crater of people all talking with each other and around me. I should be able to join a conversation. Not become social ground zero.
But I do. Every time. Without fail. At least no one can complain I’m rude; I’m sure no one even noticed I was there.
Maybe it was because the party came at the end of an already long day. Maybe my social quota was already drained. Entirely possible. Or maybe I’m just the same socially awkward dork I’ve always been. Also entirely possible. And not ‘adorkable’ or whatever that godawful word is (think Zooey Deschanel or any other hot chick with glasses), but really just… sort of there. Nothing to say. No safe topics. I need a workshop. And maybe cue cards.
You know how in theatres they have prompters that help actors out if they forget their lines? I need one of those. In real life. I mean, I feel like that’s a gap in the market. Social Situation Prompters. Imagine all the job opportunities for extroverts! I could pay one to follow me around inconspicuously and then go to some other person, “Oh, hi! The Grad Student was just telling me about her research, weren’t you?” And then the other person would just have to ask about it, right? Or another, my SSP could just linger behind my back and then when I run out of things to say whisper in my ear: “Weather!” Or with the rise of google glasses they could follow me online and send me my lines directly. Imagine the possibilities!
In reality I just sit there, smile and nod to conversations I’m not part of and can’t even really hear over the din and the music (auditory processing problems, anyone?), feel left out and excuse myself early. Keep smiling. Come up with excuse. Prior engagement. Have to leave now. It’s been so nice. Happy holidays to you, too!
And go home and cry. And whine on the internet.
Prooobably smiled too much. Dead giveaway. Urgh.
And what really breaks my heart is how when I say my goodbyes everyone goes “Aw, already? But it’s barely x o’clock, why don’t you stay?” like I just walked in the door and announced I’m leaving after five minutes. I don’t get it. You won’t even notice I’m gone, I promise.
I mean, I’m not blaming anyone but myself for my lack of social interaction or social skills. It just, y’know, kinda hurts that I can’t do it properly like other people can.
I’m just more of a one-on-one person. Single serve. Elevator, no more than six people. Rehearsed, not improv.
I probably called someone by the wrong name, too. Urgh.
I’ve been listening to this song since I came home:
This girl is about ten years younger than I am. So I guess this make me living proof that this kinda thing does not get better with age.