They grow culture in a petri dish.

Friday, June 29, 2007

Mad Interpersonal Skillz, Yo?

So, I should probably relate some highlights from my Summer '07 social calendar. Because, you know, I have some mad skillz when it comes to relating to others. If I were a superhero, I'd be "Polar Girl"—one who has the power to elicit responses from others that are completely opposite from those responses that one desires. Cases in point:

1) I attempt to make a Borders barista adopt me as his fake sister.
Apparently, walking up to some stranger and telling him that he looks just like your brother does not ensure that he'll be willing to act like said brother. Even though you miss said brother, who has moved to New York (love you, Jake!). Admittedly, the adoption of fake family members works much better with fake moms, perhaps because a woman invests years of her life in trying to nurture a fulfilling mother/daugher relationship, and it doesn't always work out biologically. I've had at least two "fake" moms.

2) I scare a toddler to language.
So, lack of experience in the "child" department does not make me entirely useless when it comes to hanging out with them. At a party at Jan's, I met someone's cutie-pie toddler, Silas. We were getting along pretty well, playing a game involving knocking one's head on the floor and hiding behind a blanket (go figure). At one point, I got bored and saw one of those rainstick things. Thinking that young Silas had never seen one, I turned it over. His first response was "guarded curiosity" which bloomed into "full terror" on a second rainstick turn. As crying proved insufficient, he reached out to his mother and uttered a definitive "MAAAAAA!" Fortunately, his mother was so happy with this statement that she overlooked the fact that I'd inadvertently traumatized her child.

3) I try to make a bum go away.
I was on my way to get some pizza at Leo's the other day, and I wanted to get an Alligator, too. There was a bum at the bus stop in front of the newspaper dispenser, and, for once, I thought "what the hell—go ahead and get a paper." When I approached the dispenser, he gives me the "Can I ask you a question?" to which I cut to the chase "Do you need some money? I can give you a dollar." He gets up and starts following me during which time he hugs me for the money. That's right: I got hugged by a hobo. It's cool, I know hobos need love, too. I'm just not sure that I want to be the one to dole it out.


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