In my quest to better the recycling services in my community I linked up with an environmental organization. I had done some volunteering for them and they invited me to come to their annual fancy fundraising gala free of charge. At the last minute, I decided to go. I had three reasons for attending: meet some other environmentalist folk to further my recycling mission, meet the Barefoot Farmer and break my old ladyesque cycle of not leaving the homestead after dark.
Attending a benign gala would be a straightforward mission if it weren't for my extreme social awkwardness. In addition to my lack of social prowess, I was walking into a fairly complex social jungle. In addition, I was attending this gala alone. Other than phone and email contact with one person at the organization, who would be far to be busy to talk to me, I knew no one.
I walked into the fancy member's only club, checked in and was given a name tag. I very quickly realized that I was the only person attending this event solo. Everyone was either paired up or in a small gang. After a trip to the bathroom and looking at all the items for auction I was out of stuff to do. I wanted to run home, but I didn't drive to Nashville for nothing. I scanned the room and saw a dad-like guy standing alone. I ambled up to him. "What's going on?" I asked. Somehow I rationalized that if I just treated him like my real dad he would turn into him.
"Not much," he replied. Then, awkward silence. I couldn't walk away, but my line had failed miserably. Finally, he spoke. He told me the rest of his posse wasn't here yet. I told him I was posse-less. We managed to carry a conversation for a few minutes. We actually had a few things in common. Suddenly, I saw him spot his friends. "I'll let you get to your peeps," I told him and gracefully slithered away.
While I had killed 10 minutes talking to not-my-dad, I had not advanced any of my goals for the evening. I did casual laps between the dining room and the auction room. Finally, I spied the second most awkward person in the room, the volunteer who had checked me in. As a bonus, he was alone. I crashed his standing room only table and chatted him up until he politely excused himself. I decided to commander his table. Standing at it allowed me to subtly blend in to the background and take a break from pacing.
After a while a girl my age gave me a big grin and approached my table island of one.
"This event is just a bunch of old people who know each other and young people working" she said.
"Exactly" I replied. This girl was a score. We could level. It also turned out that she was one of the recycling ambassadors for the state. I told her silly stories about my dismal recycling situation. She gave me her card and promised to hook me up with the recycling person for my county.
My mission was now 2/3 complete. I was tempted to leave but I lusted for complete success; contact with the barefoot farmer. The barefoot farmer is a local farming celebrity that me and Mike always talk about. He's an organic farmer with lots of cool tricks. On this night he was providing musical entertainment, which made him particularly hard to access. I resorted back to making laps and happened upon him taking a break from guitar playing. I rolled up on that barefoot man and chatted him up. To boot, I got his phone number! He offered to show me and Mike how one of his fancy tilling machines worked sometime.
I was done. All my goals completed, I made a beeline for the door and left. My 90 minutes of hard work, had paid off. And, I'd make it home before eleven.
Attending a benign gala would be a straightforward mission if it weren't for my extreme social awkwardness. In addition to my lack of social prowess, I was walking into a fairly complex social jungle. In addition, I was attending this gala alone. Other than phone and email contact with one person at the organization, who would be far to be busy to talk to me, I knew no one.
I walked into the fancy member's only club, checked in and was given a name tag. I very quickly realized that I was the only person attending this event solo. Everyone was either paired up or in a small gang. After a trip to the bathroom and looking at all the items for auction I was out of stuff to do. I wanted to run home, but I didn't drive to Nashville for nothing. I scanned the room and saw a dad-like guy standing alone. I ambled up to him. "What's going on?" I asked. Somehow I rationalized that if I just treated him like my real dad he would turn into him.
"Not much," he replied. Then, awkward silence. I couldn't walk away, but my line had failed miserably. Finally, he spoke. He told me the rest of his posse wasn't here yet. I told him I was posse-less. We managed to carry a conversation for a few minutes. We actually had a few things in common. Suddenly, I saw him spot his friends. "I'll let you get to your peeps," I told him and gracefully slithered away.
While I had killed 10 minutes talking to not-my-dad, I had not advanced any of my goals for the evening. I did casual laps between the dining room and the auction room. Finally, I spied the second most awkward person in the room, the volunteer who had checked me in. As a bonus, he was alone. I crashed his standing room only table and chatted him up until he politely excused himself. I decided to commander his table. Standing at it allowed me to subtly blend in to the background and take a break from pacing.
After a while a girl my age gave me a big grin and approached my table island of one.
"This event is just a bunch of old people who know each other and young people working" she said.
"Exactly" I replied. This girl was a score. We could level. It also turned out that she was one of the recycling ambassadors for the state. I told her silly stories about my dismal recycling situation. She gave me her card and promised to hook me up with the recycling person for my county.
My mission was now 2/3 complete. I was tempted to leave but I lusted for complete success; contact with the barefoot farmer. The barefoot farmer is a local farming celebrity that me and Mike always talk about. He's an organic farmer with lots of cool tricks. On this night he was providing musical entertainment, which made him particularly hard to access. I resorted back to making laps and happened upon him taking a break from guitar playing. I rolled up on that barefoot man and chatted him up. To boot, I got his phone number! He offered to show me and Mike how one of his fancy tilling machines worked sometime.
I was done. All my goals completed, I made a beeline for the door and left. My 90 minutes of hard work, had paid off. And, I'd make it home before eleven.
You went to a country gala?! WHAT?! Damn. I eat food and sleep on the weekends.
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