Jennifer’s

It’s no secret:¬† I am not that great in social situations.¬† As a rather shy person, I much prefer the anonymity of large crowds in which I know not a single soul¬†over a small crowd in which I know not a single soul.¬† The fewer the numbers the more chance of actually having to talk to someone beyond the formalities of polite society.¬† I’m just not good coming up with idle chatter and so spend the entire time in a small crowd searching for some kind of hole in which to crawl.

I have no trouble going shopping, out to eat, or to a movie by myself, but ask me to attend a party or meet up with a small group in which I know no one or only a few people and suddenly I become very, very uncomfortable and generally do anything I can think of to avoid such situations.

Brian and I have been together for six years now, so this personality quirk should be more than apparent to him, especially when you consider that he, too, is less than comfortable in social situations.¬† Thus, you can imagine my surprise when he announced that our next door neighbor stopped him to extend an invite to me to come over later that night for a “Girls’ Night”¬† and he told her I would probably be interested. (Bare in mind that we have lived in our house for three years and in those 36+ months I have maybe seen this particular neighbor about five times and have said “hello” to her about three times.¬† I don’t know her name nor would I recognize her if I saw her out of the context of her front yard.)¬†

At the time I was about ten weeks pregnant and suffering a horrid sinus thing, so I wasn’t apt to go for a “Girls’ Night” even if my BFF called let alone haul myself over to a virtual stranger’s home to subject myself to an evening of¬† prolonged awkwardness.¬† After berating Brian for saying I would be interested I put the whole thing out of mind and settled in for a night of hanging out on the couch reading to Isabella.¬†

Brian had to leave for a bit, but when he returned he mentioned the party again and asked if I was going to go.¬† Given that I was in the same spot I was in when he left, wearing my jammies, and hocking up snot I thought the answer obvious, but he would not let it go.¬† He suggested that he would at least go over and let our neighbor know I wasn’t coming.¬† Listen, I may be socially inept, but even I know it strange if a 32-year-old woman sent her husband over as some sort of courier. Instead, I sighed deeply a few times (just so he’d know how out out I was by the whole thing), donned some flip flops, and walked over to the house.¬†

I rang the doorbell, but of course was greeted from yelling inside to just come on in.¬† Our neighbors’ house is such that upon entering the front door you are immediately deposited in a long hallway that empties directly into the living room, which is where the majority of the guests were located.¬† Those that did not have a direct line of vision peered around to see the new arrival.¬† So there I am, facing a sea of unknown faces thinking to myself is one of these ladies my neighbor and I’m just not recognizing her and why did I have to choose the track pants that make me look about ten .lbs heavier?¬† I decided to hide out in the dark hallway and call my neighbor’s name, which I learned¬†mere seconds before heading over to extend my apologies for not being able to stay.

At the sound of her name, the neighbor came around the corner and gave me a great big hug as if we were the best of pals.¬† Perhaps this would have put any other person at ease, but for me it just added to the uncomfortable feeling washing over me.¬† I dove right into explaining how appreciative I was for the invite, but that I was not going to be able to stay due to a long work week and a nagging illness.¬† I think I said something about not wanting to get other people and their kids sick.¬† She looked crestfallen as she said, “But there aren’t any kids here, so don’t worry.”¬† I replied that I meant that I was fairly contagious and so would fear spreading germs that would continue to be spread to other households.

At that point I should have taken a bow and made for the exit, but I found myself opening my mouth and saying, “How’s it going?¬† Looks like you’re having fun.”¬† How in the world I would know if they were having fun is beyond me because all I’d done since arriving was avoid looking at anyone for fear of having to talk to someone else I didn’t know.¬† She then said, “Yeah; hold on a second…” and ran to grab something.

It occurred to me, then, that this “Girls’ Night” was really just some guise to get people to come over for some kind of jewelry, candle,¬† kitchenware party and was relieved I was not staying.¬† If there’s anything I hate more than going to some social function where I know few people, it’s a social function that is tied to the obligatory feeling of having to order something so the hostess can get enough sales to get some free crap.

When she returned she handed me two catalogs and before glancing down I said, “Oh, I’ll look through these and let you know if I want anything”.¬† I then glanced down and it is a wonder my eyes did not fall out of my head for this wasn’t something as innocent as overpriced measuring spoons or handbags; it was a Passion Party.¬† As I tried to recover a guest yelled out, “Stay.¬† We’ve got drinks, too.¬† What’s better than sex and alcohol?”¬† My mind still reeling, all I could think to say was, “I’m ten weeks pregnant, so no drinking for me and well, I guess the sex has already happened.”¬† I really don’t remember what transpired after that, but it felt like another ten years before I made my escape.

I sprinted back home and when I busted through the door Brian said his suspicions about the party’s true nature were confirmed.¬† Of course he claims nowthat it only occurred to him that this was a sex toy party after I left to give my regrets.¬† I still think he suspected all along and sent me over there just to see how I would handle myself.

There couldn’t have been a worse person to invite to such a fete.¬† If I don’t like discussing bodily functions, then I sure as heck don’t want to talk about the nature of my sex life with other people, let alone complete strangers.¬† When I told this story to a good friend she, of course, was laughing at my misfortune but said that if she had to make a list of 1, oo0 people to invite to a Passion Party I would never, ever make the list.¬†

Call me a prude, but when I glanced through the “literature” I couldn’t believe the products being sold for home use.¬† I figured on a little lube, maybe edible panties, and a few marital aids (Please, someone explain those to спални комплектиBri.¬† How does she, of all people, not know?), but oh no, this was full on pornesque.¬† I felt like the catalogues needed to be burned and that I needed to wash out my eyes.¬† I still break out into a sweat when I think about the awful nature of that party and the awakwardness of the night and how that awakwardness returns everytime I see my neighbor’s house.¬† I am forever scarred.

What awkward social moments have you experienced of late or what awakward social moments has your significant other put you in?

This entry was posted on Friday, December 4th, 2009 at 3:38 pm and is filed under rants. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.