Tag: Awkward

7 Reasons Not To Have A Conversation With Someone You Think You Know, But Don’t

I have half-an-hour to go before my meeting so I take cover just outside Liverpool Street Station. I’m not alone. Despite the rain we’re a hearty brollyless bunch. A man quips about it being a good job the Evening Standard is now free. We laugh. Probably for a bit too long. A woman decides she’d prefer to get wet. The space she leaves is immediately filled by a man. A man about my age. A man who I end up performing a double-take toward. “I know him!” I think to myself, “That’s.. erm.. that’s Tom!”

1. Introduction. I move towards Tom. He hasn’t seen me yet. I wonder if I should jab him in the ribs or tickle him, then I decide probably not. We hadn’t seen each other for years and even when we did frequent The Mitre in Fulham our relationship never reached rib-jabbing levels. Instead I manoeuvre into his vision and say, “Hello!”

“Hi,” he says back, a little less excitedly than I had hoped.

“Been a while, huh?” I say, lifting my eyebrows in the process as if to add weight to my observational skills.

“Urm, yeah,” he replies, adding lack of interest to his already unexcitable bearing.

2. Awkward Situation One. I get the feeling that Tom doesn’t really want to talk to me. Maybe he has an interview. Maybe he still reckons I owe him for a pint. I rack my brains. I was always good at paying for my round. In fact, I think Tom owes me. I can’t be sure so I decide to let it go. And anyway, I have more pressing matters. Like working out what to do now. It would look weird if I just walked away wouldn’t it? I decide to try and bring him out of his shell.

3. Small Talk. “You still living in the place?” I ask.

“Er.. yeah.”

“Still with Harriet?”

“Who?”

“Harriet? You still with her?”

“I don’t know anyone called Harriet,” he replies. And for the first time he looks directly at me. I freeze.

4. Awkward Situation Two. This isn’t Tom! I don’t know this bloke at all! He doesn’t even look anything like Tom now. What the hell must he be thinking? What the hell am I going to do now? Do I just apologise and move back to my spot? Do I leg it?

5. Weirdness. Then something really odd happens. He doesn’t make his excuses and walk away. He doesn’t just completely ignore me. He doesn’t ask me who I am. Instead he asks me a question. A question I have to ask him to repeat. Twice.

“Do you mean Hannah?”

Do I mean Hannah? Do I? I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I know I don’t mean Hannah. I know I mean Harriet. But this looks like an escape route. A small ray of light down a dark tunnel. I decide to take it.

“Hannah! Yes, not Harriet, I mean Hannah! How is she?”

6. Awkward Situation Three. “Ah, didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“She died.”

Oh. Bloody hell.

7. Goodbye. If you’ve never been in the situation where you’ve introduced yourself to a stranger only to be told that the stranger’s girlfriend is now dead, I urge you to avoid it. It is quite frankly the worst situation I have ever found myself in. And that includes my next-door neighbour’s garden when I was nine. It took me well over a decade before I was able to look at naked women again. (Mind you that wasn’t down to a lack of effort on my part). I didn’t quite know what to say. I think I just stared at Tom opened mouthed. I couldn’t quite believe it. I suspect we were only stood there for a few seconds not saying anything, but it could have been ten minutes. It’s all something of a blur. I could not quite believe how I had managed to find myself in this situation.

“Anyway,” began ‘Tom’, “I’m going to be late. Sorry just to burden you with that news. Give me a call. We’ll go for a beer.”

He held out his hand. I shook it.

“Yeah, that would be good,” I said, as he began to walk away. “Take care.”

And with that he was gone. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t go for a beer with him. I didn’t have his number. I had no idea who he was. All I knew is he was a bloke who had once lost someone called Hannah. I headed off towards my meeting feeling a profound sense of sadness. It started raining harder. I held my Evening Standard above my head.

September 9, 2011
7 Reasons That Social Kissing is a Minefield

I’m perplexed by social kissing. I’m referring to non-sexual kissing here, the sort that goes on all the time on all manner of occasions and at every gathering. I’ve been trying to make some sort of sense of it since 8:30 am. On a morning in 1985. As an Englishman, I just find it all a bit fraught and overwhelming. Anyway, here’s what I’ve got so far. Here are seven reasons that social kissing is a minefield.

This is bad. Even I know that.

1. Straight Men. Social kissing, if you’re a heterosexual man, is fraught with myriad rules and conventions that must be strictly adhered to. In truth, it’s a bit complicated. As a straight man, you can kiss any unrelated woman socially, except for the Queen and ones that smell really bad and keep pigeons in their hats. You can also kiss any related woman socially: mothers; sisters; aunts; nieces; cousins; in-laws; grandmas; that woman you’re told is an aunt but no one can remember how the family know her (she probably just latched on to them at a christening in 1974), they’re all fair game. You can’t, however, kiss any unrelated man unless a) you are both professional football players in the act of celebrating a goal or b) you are more drunk than you have ever been in your life and it is your wedding night (I played the role of surprised wedding guest in this scenario, I don’t recommend it) . Related men are simpler. You can kiss both your father and grandfather up to the age of about twelve and you can kiss babies (but not excessively, and once they can walk unaided that has to stop or you’ll get a bad reputation). Oh, and uncles should never really kiss anyone, ever. All clear?

2. Straight Women. The etiquette for straight women is more straightforward. Heterosexual women can kiss any unrelated woman, also excepting the Queen (though they will kiss the smelly woman with a pigeon in her hat because they’re generally kinder than men). They can kiss any related woman (probably including the Queen, should they be related). They can also kiss all men (both related and unrelated). In short, they may kiss pretty much everyone apart from the dead (and even then it’s acceptable for the first few days).

3. Gay Men. It’s more complicated for gay men. The same rules that apply to straight men kissing relatives apply to them but, in the case of unrelated men, things are a little different. The football celebration exemption that applies to heterosexual men doesn’t apply to them, because there are no gay professional football players. At all. None. No! But gay men can kiss each other socially (should they feel comfortable doing so), unless they are in a location where such activity may attract a crowd/mob. They are also not allowed to kiss socially within the pages of the Daily Mail, unless accompanied by some sort of lurid headline about declining standards/moral turpitude/Britain’s going to hell in a handcart because we’re so against modernity that we won’t even put it in a metaphorical car.

4. Gay Women. Exactly the same rules apply to gay women that apply to straight women, with only one important exception. Under no circumstance can a lesbian ever kiss Justin Bieber. That would just be too much confusion for anyone to bear.

5. The French. Now, the French have their own unique approach to social kissing. French men and French women (of any persuasion) can kiss absolutely anyone they like (except for the Queen and my writing partner, Jon), as long as they do it twice. Once on the left cheek and once on the right.* You can see this demonstrated at civil ceremonies throughout France as various mayors and civic dignitaries present medals for courage in the face of extreme paper cuts to postal workers and the highly-prized and hotly-contested croix de blanc, which is annually awarded to the first person to surrender their town to any approaching army (or a passing traffic warden should there be no invading army available at that moment).

6. Transsexuals. Okay, the rules are really blurred here. But, as far as I’m concerned, transsexuals can kiss anyone they like, except for the Queen and me outside York Minster at midnight on New Year’s Eve 2004 just when I’m moving in to kiss my wife and am off-guard. Yes, I concede that it would have been very funny had it happened in a sitcom or to someone else, but sadly it didn’t. Oh, and when you’re saying, “I bet you didn’t think you’d be kissing a transsexual at midnight”, try not to do it in a tar-soaked scouse accent, because that just made it feel dirty. Try it in lilting Irish next time, or a West country burr. Then I’ll probably feel better about the whole experience.

7. Eskimos. Eskimo kissing is weird. I don’t know which Eskimos can kiss other Eskimos. I also don’t know how Eskimo gender affects which Eskimos can kiss other Eskimos (or how they can tell what gender the other Eskimo is under all the layers of clothing and the furry hood). I do know, however, that Eskimos aren’t Eskimos at all, they’re Inuits, Yupiks and Aleuts, but they don’t Inuit, Yupik or Aleut kiss, they Eskimo kiss (oh, and they don’t live in igloos**). I’m sure it’s quite acceptable for them to Eskimo kiss other Eskimos (who also aren’t Eskimos) though, but probably not seals and definitely not polar bears. Just as long as they don’t come and rub their faces against the rest of us without warning really, as it’s bizarre behaviour. And by the rest of us, I mean me. I seem to have enough problems with social kissing as it is.

*If an English person says that you can kiss them on an additional cheek, they are insulting you.

**Except for the ones that do.

February 24, 2011
7 Reasons To Give Someone A Hug

Did you know it was National Hug Day today? If you are reading this in the USA then you probably did. It’s quite big over there apparently. In the UK though, it has failed to catch on. In many ways 7 Reasons are indicative of this sad situation. We are more the high-fiving kind than the hugging variety. Today that changes though. Today we hug. And you should too. Here’s why:

1. Tactical. You’re waiting for a tube, a train or a bus. And you’re not alone. There are dozens and dozens of others doing exactly them same. So many in fact that there is no way you are all going to get on. There is no way you are hanging about for another thirty minutes for the next one though, so you need a plan. What will get you on that tube, train or bus ahead of everyone else? Save for a machete, it’s hugging. If you start hugging everyone in that queue their urge to get on that next tube, train or bus will begin to diminish. So much so that they’ll be very happy to let you get on and then wait in the pouring rain. Just in case hugging is only the start.

2. Approach. We’ve all been in the position of seeing someone we quite like the look of. Someone we’d like to say hello to. Someone we’d like to become friends with. Maybe more than friends if you are particularly horny. But one thing always stops us. We aren’t quite sure what to say. While ‘Hello’ always sounds like a promising opening, if you can’t back it up with something else you are opening yourself up to look like a lemon. You wish that they would just come over and talk to you. That would be fine. The problem is, they are full of the same doubts that you are. They don’t really know what to say either. Which is why you both walk on, never to see each other again. It’s an opportunity missed. If this sounds like you, you need to bring out the hug. The next time you see someone you like, just walk up to them and hug them. If they don’t respond, step away and look shocked, “Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, “I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” They’ll understand. If they do respond though, just keep that hug going. No talking will ever be required.

3. Annoy Uncle Marc. If you know one thing about Uncle Marc it’s that he doesn’t want a hug. He doesn’t want a hug from you and he certainly doesn’t want a hug from your children. He especially doesn’t want a hug from the child that just spilled milk all down her t-shirt and then pooed on the living room floor. Get that child to hug him. His face will be priceless.

4. Warmth. It’s easily done. You are walking along the banks of an icy river when a swan starts attacking you. In your scramble to fight back you end up in the icy waters. In a bid to avoid death and pneumonia, you make it back onto dry land. Keeping your freezing and soaking wet clothes on will do you no favours, so you quickly strip and protect your dignity with a swan’s wing. You then go in search of warmth. Bodily warmth. Fifty yards ahead you spy a man and woman out for a walk. Naked, you run towards them. They are too startled by the sight to move out of your way, leaving you to jump into their arms and regain that much needed heat.

5. Strength. What better way to show small children that you’re far more powerful than they are than to give them a bear-hug? And, as you wrap you powerful, grown-up arms around them and squeeze the very air from their lungs, they’ll be really impressed. Then they’ll file it away in their memory and return the favour when you’re an old man which, as no one ever wants to hug an old man, will be a welcome event for you. Even if it does lead to your first incontinent episode.

6. Surprise. Rather unfortunately you have just bumped into the side of someone’s Mercedes. It’s not all your fault, the brake on your skateboard fell off before you reached the top of the hill. There’s still damage though. To the car. And your Sony MiniDisc. The driver looks furious. He’s getting out of the car and his moustache is quivering with rage. You have a choice. A) Skate away leaving him and the pieces of your Sony MiniDisc on the floor. B) Apologize profusely, saying you’ll pay for the damage. C) Simply give him a big old squeeze. The chances are he’ll be expecting you to do either of the first two, so by hugging him you momentarily disarm him. Once this is done, you can apologize or skate away. Whichever it is, he’ll be standing in the middle of the road wondering what the hell just happened. By the time he has realized, you’ll be hugging some other bloke half a mile down the road.

7. Fun. I was once told that I hug like a murderer as I favour the one-handed hug (leaving my left hand free). Obviously, at 7 Reasons (.org) we’re not going to encourage you to use your free hand to stab the person that you’re hugging. That would be wrong* and potentially hazardous to you, should you be foolish enough to use a knife with too long a blade. At least you’d die in someone else’s arms though. But no, what you should use your free hand for is to affix a note to their back saying “I stole this coat from orphans” or “Please kiss me”. That’s the sort of thing that makes hugging worthwhile and rewarding. Who wants a hug?

*Not to mention the consternation that it would cause our legal representatives.

January 21, 2011
7 Reasons Standing Outside Female Fitting Rooms In Zara Is Awkward (For Men)

We’ve all been there. Female changing rooms. Women go in them. Men stand outside them. That, at least, is the usual practice. And it is certainly what I practised on Saturday. In Zara. And when I say it is what I practised, I don’t mean I went into Zara and practised standing outside the fitting rooms. That type of behaviour is strictly frowned upon and usually ends up with you being escorted from the shop by the police. Apparently. So no, I was not practising standing outside the fitting rooms. I was standing outside the fitting rooms in Zara because my girlfriend was inside the fitting rooms in Zara. And boy, is Zara awkward.

1. Positioning. It’s very difficult to know where to stand in Zara. I am no expert – if I was this post would have been called ‘7 Reasons I Laugh At Men Who Feel Awkward Outside Fitting Rooms In Zara’ – but I imagine the optimum place to stand must be at a 45 degree angle to the fitting room entrance. This, at least, is what I am trying to perfect. By standing at a 45 degree angle you can see out of the corner of your eye when your lady steps out of her cubicle to model her potential new outfit for you. It also means that you are not going to be staring at a lot of…

2. Other Women, who keep popping out of their cubicles. I have made the mistake of looking directly at the fitting room entrance before and it’s not a pleasant sight. Quite why other women seem so determined to try and fit into dresses that are at least two sizes too small for them is way above my level of intellect. But this isn’t really the awkward bit. The awkward bit is when the other women see you looking at them with your eyebrows raised. Or your mouth wide open. Or your head shaking. Or your shoulders lifting up and down as if to suggest you may be trying to suppress a titter. Which, coincidentally, is what many of them seem to be trying to do too. Obviously, if you do catch their eyesight, then you quickly look away. Which is when you notice the…

3. Mirrors. So now, instead of looking at other people, you are staring at your reflection. Which seems a little odd so you look to the other side of the fitting rooms. Where there is another bloody mirror. What is it with Zara and mirrors? They are all over the place. And the one you are using now is also being used by a women. So now you are staring at a reflection of a woman trying on a jacket. And now she has noticed you staring at a reflection of her trying on a jacket. And so has her husband. Which is when you turn back to the other mirror. Now you have a choice. Remain fixed on a reflection of you and you alone or look directly at the fitting rooms? Remember, you can’t stare at the floor, look the other way or run because your lady could step out of her cubicle at any moment. And you must be there. Given my previous with staring directly at the fitting rooms. I go for the looking at myself in a mirror option. I’ve done that before. And it hasn’t felt awkward since my Mum caught me singing along to Elvis with a comb. Thankfully, I don’t have a comb with me on this occasion, so instead I try and work out whether my shoulders are more sculpted than before or whether it’s one of those funny mirrors. I then realise someone else is hoping to use the mirror and so I have no option but to turn back to looking directly at the fitting room. This is where you have to resort to Plan Z. The phone. As…

4. Behaviour whilst waiting for someone goes, looking at your phone is the worst kind. Looking at your phone not only screams, ‘I am waiting for someone and I feel awkward,’ it also says, ‘I am bored’. Which is not good. Especially if that is the moment when your lady needs your attention. There is a way to rectify this however. I have named it the ‘look at your invisible phone’ technique. Basically it involves you, pretending you are looking at your phone. Or, in layman’s terms, just looking downwards a bit. You can also throw in some robot dance moves if you feel inclined, but most don’t. The good thing about the invisible phone/looking downwards move is that your periphiral vision still takes in your lady’s location in the fitting room. This is all well and good until you sense there is…

5. Another Man Waiting. This really shouldn’t be a problem. But ridiculously it makes it far more awkward. Not only are you are both checking on the behaviour of the other person to see if you can pick up any good ‘waiting outside fitting room’ tips, you are now in direct competition. You are both proud of your lady and you want to show the other guy that you are the better boyfriend/husband. Unfortunately, this means telling your lady that she looks wonderful in whatever she steps out of the fitting room wearing. Even if you’re not 100% sure about it. That’s until one of you decide you need to step up and show your relationship really is based on honesty about clothes. You need to show that your lady respects your opinion and if you aren’t sure about something she won’t feel let down. Which is when she steps out of the fitting room and you immediately say, ‘I’m not sure about that sweetheart. It’s not you at all.’ And then she scowls at you and you realise it’s what she has been wearing all day. Still, it could have been worse. You could have been standing outside the fitting rooms with…

6. Other Women. And this really is awkward. You feel awkward not just because you keep thinking, ‘Am I standing in the right place? How should I be acting? What the hell is she wearing?’ but because you are never 100% sure what they are thinking. Are they thinking, ‘That’s nice. I wish my boyfriend/husband was happy waiting for me in Zara instead of hanging around in HMV’? Or, are they thinking, ‘I wish security would come and remove this pervert’? I’ll be honest, the latter makes one feel very awkward. Especially when they wander off in the direction of an important looking person. You’re just waiting for a tap on the shoulder. Which is when you realise that your lady has been in the fitting room for a long…

7. Time. What is she doing in there? Is she okay? What happens if her hair has got stuck in a zip and she is now stuck? Do I phone her up? Do I ask a member of staff to go and check? Do I wander down and find out for myself? A knot twists in your stomach. She might be stuck with a dress over her head and you’re not doing anything. You’re just standing here. Feeling awkward. And now you’re feeling awkward for feeling awkward. Why? What have men done to be punished like this? Why does Zara punish men like this? When will this torture end?

September 21, 2010
7 Reasons It’s Awkward Travelling On The Train (With A Strange Man)

1. It’s Monday morning and I am on the train to London. It’s after 9.00am so the train is fairly empty. I have a a block of six seats to myself. We pull into Maidstone East. A man gets on. He could sit anywhere. But he doesn’t. He sits opposite me, one seat across. Why? Why did he do this? But worse is to follow. He says, ‘Good Morning’. I feel awkward. I know shouldn’t. I know I should just be able to say ‘Good Morning’ back, but it feels strange. A stranger saying good morning to me on a train. I mumble a ‘Hi’ back, feel a bit embarrassed and go back to my book.

2. It’s no more than five minutes later. I am reading, but I can sense the man is looking at me. I feel awkward. I raise my head. Sure enough he is looking at me. He sees my attention on the book has lapsed and takes his chance. ‘Good book?’ he says. ‘So far, it’s very interesting,’ I reply. We spend the next five minutes talking about Harold Larwood. (I am reading his biography). I say we talk about Harold Larwood. He does most of the talking. I pretend to look interested.

3. There is a lull in what was never a flowing conversation. I feel awkward. Is now the time I go back to my book? Or is that deemed rude? Am I now supposed to talk to this man all the way to London Victoria? The man looks towards the window. I see this as the opportunity I have been waiting for. I turn back to my book. And I vow not to look up again.

4. We arrive at London Victoria forty minutes later. We haven’t spoken in that time. I stand up and grab my bag from the rack. The man is still sitting there. What is he waiting for? I feel awkward. What do I do? Am I required to say goodbye? I think about it. In fact I am sure I am about to say it. But I don’t. I just look at him. And half-smile. And half-nod. And half-walk off the train. The other half ran.

5. I’m waiting on the platform for a Wimbledon bound District Line train. Suddenly, from behind a bloke who is no doubt sponsored by Pukka Pies, appears someone I recognise. It’s the man again. And he’s seen me. I feel awkward. Now what do I do? I didn’t say goodbye. Surely that means I don’t say hello. But we can’t just stand next to each other and pretend we are just two people who have never seen each other before. That would be awkward. He’s getting closer. But here comes the train! I feel less awkward. I get on the train. I sit down. The man sits opposite me. I feel awkward.

6. My stop is next. Parsons Green. Surely this man isn’t going to get off here. We have spent twenty minutes not talking to each other. But I haven’t been reading. I have mainly been looking out of the window. But the window is behind the man. So occasionally I’ve caught his eye-line. And I’ve felt awkward. What should I have done? Is he thinking the same as me? Or have I hurt his feelings? Have I made him think he’s boring? Parsons Green arrives. The doors open. I stand up, turn left and alight. I walk down the platform. I dare not look back. I know, I just know, that if I do, he’ll be there. I walk home and never look back.

7. I’m in the kitchen. I’ve just flicked the kettle on. I decide there is probably a 7 Reasons post in this. Something about feeling awkward on the train. I get my notepad out and start scribbling down what happened. I get six reasons done and re-read them. As I read it, I feel awkward. I feel awkward about feeling awkward. I also feel very silly.

June 16, 2010