Exclaimed the first person I ran into.
"Yeah, it's me! HEY!"
Good thing I have not lost my social skills while experimenting with the hermit life.
I could have fit Notorious BIG's private Twinkie stash inside that guy's mouth his jaw had dropped so much.
When confronted with something I don't want to talk about, I usually just repeat what the other person previously said, but put emphasis on a different word. It's a great method that I would recommend to anyone. (For example: "I HEARD something about you!" to which I would respond: "You heard something ABOUT me!" then, walk away before they can respond.)
"Wow! Well, it's good to see you finally got out of your room!"
Shit! Is it that obvious? Does everyone know I've voluntarily subjected myself to solitary confinement? Does the fact that people OUTSIDE of my room are fully aware that I am INSIDE of my room contradict the whole "solitary" thing I got goin' on here? What does a girl have to do to get some privacy around here! Move into a tee pee? Live in a box? Pull a Virginia Tech?
After this brief encounter with the social kind, I decided that walking from my door to my mailbox was enough of a venture for one day, and what started off as a promenade quickly turned into a rushed return to my front door, only to realize I had forgotten my key.
(This is what happens when you do not leave your home. You do not think of crucial materials you may need upon returning, since you rarely ever "return" to a place you never depart from in the first place.)
Thankfully, after a telephone call to my roommate (I did remember my phone, but not because I thought it may come in handy, but because there is a clock on my phone and I promised myself I would commit to at least 8 minutes in the sunlight. Admittedly, I did NOT spend 8 minutes experiencing sun exposure, but who cares about keeping promises these days?), she informed me that she was on her way back and would be there soon. (Guess I will get in my 8 minutes! What a trooper I am!) My wait was all fine and dandy until 7 seconds into it a boy emerges from my neighbor's front door.
"Yeah. Yeah I'll have it to you be tomorrow. Yeah. Yeah."
Okay, I thought, he's on the phone. He won't bother me. I can stand here and act like I'm doin' my thang. Standin' it up. Shivering in the freezing cold at my own will. No big deal. It's all good. I'm just a girl who likes to stand. No. Biggie.
"Ok, see ya."
My self-encouraging thoughts were soon interrupted when Emerging Boy hangs up his phone and continues to stand there.
Okay, I thought, he just feels like standing. I'm not bothered by this. We're just two people who like to stand. This is not awkward. Not a bit. Not a tad. I'm standing; he's standing. This is what people do. They stand. I'm blowing this out of proportion. We're standers. We're just doin' our thang. And our thang, at the moment, is standing.
But then Emerging Boy, who I then deemed as Standing Boy, turns toward me. And begins texting. While fully facing in my direction. Cool cool...
Then he puts his phone away. And stands there. Still facing me. And looking at me. As annoying as it would have been if he had turned toward me and struck up a conversation, (since I would have been forced to equally participate since I was locked out of my fucking dorm), it hit me that things can always be worse.
I held my position, suddenly finding a large interest in the lamppost across the street.
I don't know who raised this kid, but whoever told him that facing a girl and pretending to cough is a good method to get her attention was a complete moron.
"Man oh man..."
Man oh MAN that lamppost is fascinating!
Okay who the FUCK raised this kid. It's bad enough to fake a cold, but to then resort to sound effects? What does he even expect here? What the hell kind of remark am I supposed to come up with to "whoo?"
"Well THAT was an interesting phone conversation!"
Dammit. Now I have no choice but to respond.
"Looks like you made it through alive, though!"
See, this is why I don't like situations such as these. It was peaches and cream when he was the evident idiot, but then it comes time for me to respond, and, at least in my eyes, the cheesy remarks I have to say deem ME as the idiot, when really HE is the idiot and now we're BOTH idiots and now he's going to think it's meant to be. ("I have finally found a girl as idiotic as me! I shall settle for no one else! We can spend the rest of our lives together putting metal in the microwave and pushing doors that say "PULL!")
"I did, didn't I?! HAHA!"
See? This is exactly what I'm talking about. His enthused amusement toward my remark is a sure sign he's thinkin' I'm gonna squeeze him out a Standing Boy Jr.
Then again, he's just visiting. It's not like he's my neighbor. (Look at me! Trying to see the bright side! I should make conversation too, now that I'm on this Anti-Cynical-High!)
"So, who do you know that lives next door?"
"Oh, no no no, I'm your new neighbor!"
My life. In a nutshell.
"OH! You're my new NEIGHBOR!"
(This is that method of mine I mentioned earlier.)
"Yeah! I am!"
He takes this piece of news as an extended invite to walk over to me to continue the conversation. Why oh WHY did I ever try to be polite.
After introducing himself, and I to him, my roommate arrives with the key. Excuse me, with THE KEY. (Consecrated objects should be written in all capital letters.)
"Standing Boy, this is my roommate, Roommate, this is Standing Boy!"
It may have been selfish to force someone else to deal with Standing Boy, but I needed the attention off of myself for a brief moment so I could devise a plan to courteously leave.
I didn't have much time for devising.
I rush inside. Take a deep breath. And return to my room. I now remember why I refrained from leaving it in the first place.
But it won't ever happen again.