Awkwardness follows me

I admit that I invite my share of the awkward in the world.

I say silly things. I like to laugh. I trip. A lot.

But I’m telling you, the awkward happens to me WAY more than to others.

Want an example? I give you this past Sunday as evidence.

First off, let me offer my congratulations and love to one of my bestest friends EVER, Mindy, who got engaged on Sunday morning before church began. Since she and Marty met at church, such a proposal seems oddly appropriate.

That’s nice and not awkward.

It’s all the craziness that followed when the awkwardness that follows me around like a shadow decided to rear its ugly head.

In the confusion of the proposal, the choir room was buzzing. People kept asking me what was happening and why Mindy was crying and if she and Marty had gotten engaged. I was trying to field all the questions when someone asked me the dreaded question: So when are you going to get married?

Before you think I jumped on this person and beat him down screaming “Insensitive BRUTE!,” let me say this: yes, I’m single. Yes, I’d like to be married someday. No, I’m not sitting around bemoaning the fact that I’m single. I’m pretty happy with my life right now. So the question didn’t hurt my feelings.

The awkward came next as the person continued: “If I were 30 years younger and single, I’d definitely ask you out.”

What do you say to that? Thank you? Laugh and look for someone to rescue you?

I, for one, didn’t know what to say, especially when I found out that he had already shared this bit of info with his wife and daughter, both of whom I know.

Awkward!

Then, I went to class. I was sitting between two of my guy friends and we were discussing my childhood love for the “Dukes of Hazzard” and how I thought Daisy Duke was beautiful. Before you think I go to really weird church, know this: my class plays an ice breaker each week involving questions we have to answer and this week’s dealt with TV shows and characters we used to like.

So we were talking about Daisy Duke, when one of my guy friends says something to me involving Daisy Duke shorts and me.

This time, I simply said “Awkward!” out loud.

Because it was.

Awkward.

Then, after church, I went to lunch with friends. Where amid laughter, joking, and conversation, I found my two guy friends writing—out loud—a fiction about how I am engaged to one of them. There were weird, embarrassing memories of how we all first met, pictures, and fake congrats.

After I left, I had no clue how to explain what had happened. I have no words.

No, I have one.

Awkward.