Ok, I don’t actually completely hate myself. I can be funny. And I can be weird. And I look good in a suit. (I was shocked too!) But here’s something I really don’t like about myself. I’m so incredibly shy. I’m shy to the point that I am scared of people. Not all people. But certain people scare me.
So here’s the scoop. This weekend is Junior Parents Weekend and my and all other junior’s parents are in town for the big shindig. Tonight we had a big fancy schmancy dinner and then really nothing going on after that. So my parents and I chilled at the Spring Hill Suites hotel. (My ‘rents are living large this weekend!) It was a good night. We chilled out, watched some SNL rerun and then rocked out the Disney Channel. I had an earlier discussion with my dad that the Disney Channel sitcoms can be very tolerable and sometimes downright funny. After a viewing of “The Suite Life” and “Hannah Montana”, I’m still not sure he’s convinced but he does give props to Hannah for a Ray Romano cameo.
Anyway, we get sleepy so my dad takes me back to ND. We get down to the lobby of the hotel and I spot some people I know. Now these people aren’t strangers. I’ve hung out with them in the past. In fact, I kinda dig all of them. They are very cool cats and I find them all very entertaining to be around. But here’s the deal. I am very unassuming. Even though I’ve hung out with these guys probably twenty times in my life, I was too shy to go over and talk to them. I’ve never really gotten any hints that these people don’t like me. However, I can’t help but be scared shitless that I’m nothing more than an annoying little shit to them.
Now, I’m pretty sure they think I’m weird. Which I’m okay with because I know I’m weird. But I have no evidence that they don’t like me. In fact, I have circumstantial evidence that they may in fact do like me. But since I’m not really tight with them, I don’t really hang out with them much anymore. Which I understand cause they shouldn’t have to worry about my well being. Like I said before, I’m very unassuming and scared shitless of being thought of as a mook. Which means I don’t go around actively seeking them out to hang with. Which is a double whammy because the less I ask to hang out, the less they think, “Hey, that Marc kid is fun. Let’s go dancing with him!” and actively seek me out to hang.
Tonight was just another letdown in my long list of wimping out. I could’ve very easily just gone over there and been like “Hey, what’s up? Here’s my dad. Oh those are your parents? Nice to meet you. Okay, cool, well, see ya!” But no, I ducked my head, avoided eye contact, halfway hoped somebody would notice me and say my name, and walked hastily out the door.
So, long story short, I’m a wimp.
The End.
Marc
