Yesterday at my internship, I wore a sweater with alternating purple and dark purple stripes over a white collared shirt (also a black and purple striped tie which is clearly too much purple but it's the only dang tie I have).
Apparently, I looked fantastic.
After work I had some time to kill before Lost, so I went to the mall to make use of some gift cards I'd gotten. I had a wonderful conversation with an attractive employee at H&M about how great a color purple is after she complimented the sweater.
As I walked down the mall after that, I noticed someone speaking to me out of the corner of my eye.
Here is a thing about me, and I may have mentioned it here before, but when I am in public I do not expect to be spoken to, and when I am it tends to catch me ridiculously off guard and I lose any and all grip over the English language that normally makes me incessantly charming and a joy to listen to.
So I look over, and there are two large men standing outside the Build-A-Bear Workshop. They are hanging out just outside of the entrance, so when one says to me,
"Hey, you work here?"
Which I take to mean "do you work here at the Build-A-Bear Workshop?" which is the kind of situation I never really though I'd find myself in.
He proceeds to clarify. "That's a nice sweater, I think I might wear somethin' like that to my interview next week."
Now, thrown off as I am by this situation, the only thing I can assume is that this dude is trying to mess with me. This makes me even less able to process what is going on, so completely unsure if he's being serious with me and having no idea what to say I come up with:
"Oh...yeah. Yeah, I wore this to work today. So, it was cool. Yeah."
At which point I begin to walk the other way. The guy says something else to me, but I have become an Awkwardness Singularity, sucking all social grace and basic human communication into a vortex from whence there is nothing but blackness.
I still have no idea what he said. My automatic response was to turn around, wave, mumble a bit so he would hopefully draw out whatever kind of answer he was looking for and continue walking.
The moral of the story is this: sometimes, I actually look too good.
