You ever get the feeling that someone doesn’t like you? You don’t know for sure…but you feel it. You see it in their eyes when they look at you. You get that seventh sense of hate whenever they find out that you are in their general vicinity. You know where they are during the day…and make mental notes to avoid those areas whenever you can. And if you have to walk through that area, you calculate different paths to somehow navigate away from those angry eyes that seem to stare into your soul as they say.
“Hey….you…over there…yeah…i don’t like you.”
It’s a weird feeling to know that. You start to question yourself.
“Dude…why don’t you like me? I’m a nice person…I make jokes…and quirky comments…I never did anything to you.”
And then you get paranoid.
“Wait…did I ever do anything to that person? Did I make a bad joke that didn’t make sense…and offended them? Did I not include them in something? Was I like giving hi-fives to everyone in their department…and forget to give them one? Maybe that person thinks I am annoying. Maybe he thinks my voice is annoying….or hates the way that I dress…or the way that I find ways to quote Taylor Swift songs in normal conversation…ok, yeah that is probably annoying. Whatever..I’ll just shake it off….shake it off. Darn it…I just did it again. And I said darn it, that can be annoying too. Who says ‘darn it’ anyway? Only cowboys in old western movies say that…wait, no…they say ‘dag nabbit,’…you know like, ‘I reckon you owe me a horse, dag nabbit.’ Ok, I’m just rambling in my head now…oh wait, there he is…he is looking right at me…yeah, he hates me.”
So, yes there is this person who I think feels this way about me. I walk by them minding my own business….and if I loosely look in their direction, I catch them just staring at me with this look on their face.
“There goes Dan…with his goofy shirt saying ‘Pugs not drugs.’ He thinks he is so funny…he thinks he is so cool. Well, you know what Dan? You wanna know something there bucko? You are not cool…not even the slightest bit of coolness comes from you. I bet you are the opposite of cool….and that is…that means you are hot. Wait, no…you are NOT hot…not hot at all…that’s a compliment…and I won’t give you a compliment bucko. You are middle temperature…not cool at all…not hot at all…like lukewarm. Yeah, that’s the ticket…that’s you…haha. Mr. Lukewarm.”
There have been awkward moments I could not avoid without looking like an idiot. Like this one.
My boss turns to me.
“Dan…lunch time. Go on your break.”
I walk off…and see the break room door. It’s closed. I walk in and there he is sitting on the couch and the stare begins. I quickly scan the breakroom…no one else is there. No TV blaring in the background…no other co-workers. Just angry mean guy on the couch. I have to do something. What do I do? Sit down next to angry mean guy? Sit on the other couch in a silent room while he burns with anger? I am standing there…in the doorway. So instinctively I start putting my hands in my pockets pretending to find something…and this whole time I start saying out loud:
“What? What? Where is it…where did it go?”
And in my head, I’m thinking…DAN, WHAT DID YOU LOSE…SAY IT OUTLOUD..SO YOU CAN CLOSE THE DOOR AND LEAVE THIS BREAK ROOM THAT IS FILLED WITH AWKWARDNESS.
“Uhh…yeah…where is it..my..my…nickel…my…my lucky nickel. Maybe it’s in my car. I need that nickel.”
I close the door and cringe.
“Are you serious, Dan? You’re lucky nickel? You need a lucky nickel? Why is five cents so important to you? You couldn’t have said you left your wallet in the car…or that you need to buy something for lunch…no..you said you left a piece of metal that is worth five cents…in your car. And it’s lucky…this piece of metal brings you luck.”
I am annoying…now I understand why he doesn’t like me.