Hey what's your name?
I love my husband....so, I accompanied him to his twenty year high school reunion. We attended the picnic and fancy hotel dinner. I smiled, I looked people in the eye and repeated their name, I said nice to meet you and I tried to "work the room". But, really who wants to work the room with someone you don't know? I tried to be mellow and have low expectations. The food was yummy and conversation was doable. Near the end some guy got up and started introducing everyone at the tables. Uhhh, the whole room. I went to the bathroom.
When I returned, the intros were done. We had moved to some quick speeches. Thereafter, it was to be a night of crazy dancing and talking. As all people know there are married people rules. When I touch your arm, SAVE ME for Pete's sake. Rescue me from funky strangers or boredom. This can be tricky. I had invented a variety of conversation points, but my energy was ebbing. I had run through all of my instant "I don't know you" topic points. Somehow, we got separated in the circle. I was now manning a single-person-chat. I had talked as much as I could with the spouse, I had nothing left!
I noticed his name tag said Theodore. As my brain chilled and slowed, I pounded my theoretical fists and queried, "So, your name is Theodore. We almost named our son Theodore." (pat, touch spousal arm) As if this wasn't engaging enough, I couldn't stop myself. "Do you go by Theo or Teddy? We almost named our last Theodore. It's a family name. We were going to go with Theo, but maybe it was too Cosby showish.." As I became aware of how "kill me now" I sounded, I became more nervous. (pat, touch, HELP ME) So, I began a spiel of Theodore commentary, I couldn't stop. I would like to tell more. However, because it was so abysmal I can't remember the bland details. I kept waiting for the guy to pull me off the stage. Because it was a reunion, it is not like I had a kid who could conveniently pull my hand. I couldn't think of a gracious way to excuse or pull myself away. The wheels kept coming off until I somehow got away. I hunkered down and stood by the cash bar. Instead, I started watching the other train wrecks happening there. As unkind as that seems, it was a relief not to kill someone else with my conversationally unsavvy skills.
When I returned, the intros were done. We had moved to some quick speeches. Thereafter, it was to be a night of crazy dancing and talking. As all people know there are married people rules. When I touch your arm, SAVE ME for Pete's sake. Rescue me from funky strangers or boredom. This can be tricky. I had invented a variety of conversation points, but my energy was ebbing. I had run through all of my instant "I don't know you" topic points. Somehow, we got separated in the circle. I was now manning a single-person-chat. I had talked as much as I could with the spouse, I had nothing left!
I noticed his name tag said Theodore. As my brain chilled and slowed, I pounded my theoretical fists and queried, "So, your name is Theodore. We almost named our son Theodore." (pat, touch spousal arm) As if this wasn't engaging enough, I couldn't stop myself. "Do you go by Theo or Teddy? We almost named our last Theodore. It's a family name. We were going to go with Theo, but maybe it was too Cosby showish.." As I became aware of how "kill me now" I sounded, I became more nervous. (pat, touch, HELP ME) So, I began a spiel of Theodore commentary, I couldn't stop. I would like to tell more. However, because it was so abysmal I can't remember the bland details. I kept waiting for the guy to pull me off the stage. Because it was a reunion, it is not like I had a kid who could conveniently pull my hand. I couldn't think of a gracious way to excuse or pull myself away. The wheels kept coming off until I somehow got away. I hunkered down and stood by the cash bar. Instead, I started watching the other train wrecks happening there. As unkind as that seems, it was a relief not to kill someone else with my conversationally unsavvy skills.
Comments
My 25 high school reunion was a couple of weeks ago. I asked my husband to attend with me just in case I needed moral support. But it was held close to home, so we drove in separate cars. I found a table of good friends to sit with, over half of them without their spouses in attendance. I excused my man after dessert, and even though he is very much an extrovert and great at conversation with most anyone about any topic, he was grateful for the permission to leave. There's only so much small talk one can comfortably endure in one evening.