The Awkward Moment When You Try To Make Friends

Photo Creds to http://cheezburger.com/View/2940123648

         

          Every Saturday I go to the Music Institute of Chicago to wait for my little sister to finish with her violin lessons. And every Saturday it seems like the same kid sits next to me in the waiting room, opens a green binder labeled “Pre-Calculus,” stares at a page of notes for exactly two minutes, active reads half of a book (yes, it’s different each time), and then takes out his music and hums quietly to himself. Yes, all of this occurs in approximately 45 minutes while he waits for his teacher to call for him.

            If you were curious, this week’s literary work was Hamlet.

            Considering that I see this kid every Saturday, I decided to make a friend and break the awkward ice that always occurs since we always end up sitting next to each other every single Saturday.

            “Hi, I’m Sarah. I noticed you come here—”

            “Yeah, I have a lesson.”

            “…Oh.”

            “Yeah.”

            Enter a good 10 minutes of silence. Why am I so awkward? I’d like to know that, too.

            So I took out my assignment notebook and was busy crossing out my English homework pretending to be productive when the kid looks at the cover of my notebook and asks, “You’re from Glenbrook North?”

            Extremely happy that he decided to break the silence, I took the opportunity to respond with, “Yeah, I am. Which school are you from?”

            “New Trier. But I’m actually a transfer student from Spain.”

            “Oh, wow, you don’t have an accent!”

            Why do I always say the wrong things at the wrong time?

            Trying to not sound completely stupid, I added, “I mean, like, you know, for, uh…”

            That definitely helped.

            Luckily, his teacher decided to come just at the right moment and call for him.

            He reached for a handshake with his left hand.

            I reached for a handshake with my right.

            Seeing that the handshake wouldn’t work out, he simply said, “Well, it was nice talking to you, Sarah. Also, your pencil case is spilling right now.”

            “Oh, well, yeah, thanks…”

            I cleaned up my pencil case and swore I’d never try to make small talk with people who open green binders labeled “Pre-Calculus,” stare at notes for two minutes, active read crazy hard books, and hum their violin music to themselves again.

            But I mean, chances are, I’ll end up talking to the kid again.

            Because who doesn’t want a friend from Spain? 

The Awkward Moment When You Stare At Someone While Daydreaming

Photo Credits to: http://www.cracked.com/article_19188_19-warning-signs-common-awkward-moments.html

I love orchestra. Who doesn’t like playing instruments that damage your back and twist your left arm around awkward instruments that are shaped like, well, you get the point. Today, we had a test, yes, a test in an elective that’s supposed to be a blow-off class. Every year, the band and orchestra and choir collaborate together to piece together the song “White Christmas,” and every year, the band and the choir take up the stage, and the orchestra is forced to play on the wings of the stage, having the song memorize. And today, the conductor was testing all of the orchestra players to see if they had memorized their parts.

           As one could probably predict, I did not memorize the piece. The reason for this is half because I expected my doctor’s appointment to end much later than it did (I had been pulled out of school and hadn’t expected to get back until the class after orchestra) and half because the last time I picked up my violin to practice, one of the strings snapped in my face and it wasn’t a pleasant experience.

            The conductor said that we could have twenty minutes to rehearse before he tested us, and many of the students resorted to practicing like good Asians should (sorry, but about 90% of the orchestra is Asian). However, I really didn’t want to crack open the violin case that sat at my feet, so I propped my feet up on the case, leaned back , and thought about my health test that I was to take tomorrow that was on STDs.

            Of course, while I was thinking about this, I didn’t really think about where I was looking, because sometimes when I daydream, my eyes are open, but I’m not really seeing what’s in front of me.

            Oh, the poor cello player who probably thought I was mad at him.

            When I finally snapped back into reality, the kid who I was subconsciously staring at gave a wounded look, like he was afraid of me. Luckily, he wasn’t shy and came up to me and asked what I was so upset about, because apparently, I had been glaring at him and I hadn’t even noticed it.

            I’m real passionate about that health test tomorrow, that’s why I was glaring. I was in full concentration mode.

            Just kidding. Studying for health class is like pulling out teeth. It’s painful and to get it done, someone would probably have to put me on some kind of drug for me to go through with it (Note: I am not advocating for taking drugs while studying).

            I guess I’m lucky that people in the orchestra aren’t really shy with each other and are able to go up to each other and ask why they were glaring at them. Sadly, I am not as lucky to have those kinds of people in the other classes in which I daydream about random things (such as pancakes, like the guy in the picture). So, I’m sure that about half my social studies class thinks that I’m mad at them since I’m always daydreaming in that class.

            Perhaps one day someone will tell me every time I stare at someone, because that would be very helpful, and would perhaps avoid that awkward moment when the person you are staring at and you both lock eyes.

            Well, that’s all I shall write tonight.

            By the way. I passed the orchestra test. Standing in the back and being short has its advantages.