When You Say the Wrong Thing

I am an overtalker. I constantly say way more than necessary, which also leads to me constantly putting my foot in my mouth. It’s especially bad if I’m in a situation where I’m a little bit nervous, not that it happens a lot, but good looking boys fluster me sometimes and I clam up and forget my own name.

For instance, this past weekend, I was out with my friends and we were all dancing and having a great time. My friend MK and I spotted a really cute guy. Like out of this world hottie. He looked like Zac Efron and Dave Franco had a love child that turned out to be 6’3″ somehow. Naturally, I dared MK to go up to him and say “hi.”

So, one thing led to another, we thought the guy was with a girl and MK was scared she would get hit. Even though I told her that we could take the other girl in a fight, she still didn’t want to risk it.

We gave up the idea of the hottie and went back to roaming around the club talking to everyone along the way. The next hour went by in a flash and next thing we know, the crew is ready to roll out. Since we had all sort of gone to do our own thing, we had to go track everyone down. We had everyone except for A, so I went back to get him. I found him, oh I found him, but I figured it would be good to allow him to say goodbye to the person he was dancing with. So I gave hime a wave and let him know that we were all ready to go. Then I politely turned my back to start walking to the coat room.

Guess who I come face to face with?

Hint. It was the Zac Efron look-alike.

I just stood there and stared for a second because I’m pretty sure that the world stopped.

He said, “hi” to me and everything came back to life.

He was just standing there expectantly, waiting for my response, and we were in a club, so we were standing pretty close together with other people pushing around us. And I’m just standing there with my mouth open and no words coming out.

He looked confused for a second.

Then my brain registered what I was doing.

And that wasn’t good because then it went into panic mode.

My stupid mouth stopped listening to my logical brain and I basically yelled at the guy, “Hi!” In a really high pitched squeaky voice, “You are so cute!”

Okay, that’s not so bad. Not too terrible, I could come back from that. But oh no. My traitorous mouth does it again: “Thank you so much for being so cute, really, thank you.”

He looked at me like I had six heads. Full on stared. God, it was terrible.

Then my brain caught up with me and my next thought was, how do I get out of this?

So, my mouth jumped the gun again and turns to Zefron’s friend and says, “your friend is really cute, but I mean so are you.” (He was NOT cute)
Oh God. What did I do? Now both guys are just staring at me. Of course.

So, I took that as my cue to just go and get my coat and leave and never look back.

My smoothness was nonexistent that night. I was the most bumpy, inelegant rocky mountain you could have imagined.

But, I did live to see another day and those guys probably forgot about me the second that I walked away.

Cheers to Zac Efron and his not so cutie friend for making me re-evaluate my brain to mouth connection. I probably needed that.


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