Surprise?

There is no situation so uncomfortable, that it can’t be made more so with my involvement.

A TSA agent giving me an aggressive pat down is already awkward. My role in this interaction should be staring silently ahead and pretending a gloved hand is not squeezing my butt. But instead I went off script and said, “Oh my, that action usually gets me at least a 5 spot in the waistband.”

When I was doing running stride analysis training at work, I was the test subject for the treadmill recording. Everyone was putting reflective markers on my back for the camera to track and they wouldn’t stick on my skin. Laying face down in a sports bra in front of my coworkers was already awkward. What I should have said was nothing. What I did say was, “Sorry, I forgot to shave my back this morning.”

I’m telling you. Place me in any awkward situation, and my knee jerk reaction is throw some gasoline on the awkward flame and just burst into uncomfortable flames.

When Cary and I were first married, he had to attend a training out of state, and I went along. There were several other married couples attending this training, and we made friends with lots of other couples stuck in the middle of nowhere. There was one couple in particular that lived right around the corner from us. To preserve the identities of all involved in this cringe-worthy tale, I will call them Carol and Jeff.

My first interaction with Carol was spent with me holding a too-small hotel towel precariously around myself. There are approximately 2 people on the earth with whom I am comfortable conversing when clothed in only a hotel towel.

When I first met Carol, I had just hopped out of the shower, when someone knocked on my door. I thought it was the maintenance guy, so I planned to poke my head out the door and ask him to come back later. But it was my new chatty neighbor, keen on becoming best friends. She swung the door open and marched on inside, not even batting an eye at my dripping hair and flimsy towel. I stood hiding behind the couch for what felt like an eternity as she introduced herself and made small talk. I stood half hiding behind the couch; one hand trying to keep that little corner of the towel that only barely overlaps closed to prevent us from getting real close real fast. Eventually she must have noticed me gazing longingly at my clothes and she left.

A few weeks passed and aside from a neighborly wave hello, we didn’t interact much. My husband knew Jeff a little bit from training, but I hadn’t met him.

Until one day, she knocked on my door. I was luckily fully clothed this time, and answered to find Carol practically bouncing on my door stop. She excitedly told me that it was Jeff’s birthday today, and she was taking him out to dinner. She planned to have a surprise party for him when they returned, and gave me the key to their apartment. I was to go over to their house when they were out to dinner, and let in the other party attendees. We were all supposed to hide in the apartment and jump out to surprise the birthday boy when they returned home from dinner.

I didn’t love this idea from the get go, but what choice did I have? The appointed hour rolled around, and my husband and I moseyed over to their apartment. No one else was there, so we let ourselves in and waited for the other party people to arrive. I stared around the apartment, noticing cloaks, costumes, hats and other relics indicative of very diverse hobbies that I feared I would soon have to hear about. Having never met Jeff, I worried that we had been invited to some sort of role playing nerd fest. Oh, if only that was the weirdest part about this evening.

We perched onto their kitchen chairs and twiddled our thumbs while we waited. I pondered what vibes I could have projected during our brief meeting that would have led Carol to believe that I enjoy D&D. I made a mental note to reevaluate myself.

Where were all of the other party guests? Cary texted all of his friends in the training program who might have been invited. It soon become apparent that no one was coming. Time was ticking by; the birthday guest was due to arrive soon, and Cary and I were alone in their apartment. I frantically texted Carol, asking her where all of their friends were, but all of my desperate texts went unanswered.

Cary and I nervously paced around the apartment, trying to figure out what in the world to do. Should we go outside and pay some homeless people to join the party? Should we pretend to be robbing them when they get back? Should we just leave and deal with the awkwardness of returning the key later?

Just as we had decided to cut bait and run, the door rattled. I considered climbing out the second story window. But before I could heave my leg over the ledge, the couple entered the door. And there we were. Sitting at their table. Just me and Cary.

I stood up and sort of gestured with an uncertain shrug and said:

“Happy Birthday???”

“By the way my name is Amy?”

“I’m in your apartment? Hope that’s okay? And I hope you don’t mind that I tried on all of your clothes while you were gone?”

Delightedly, Carol hopped up and down and clapped her hands. “Surprise!!!! Happy Birthday!!!! Are you so surprised???”

Boy, I’ll bet he sure was. Isn’t this what everyone wants for their birthday? To open the door to their home and find two strangers sitting uncomfortably at your table?

Cary went with the strategy of pretending he was involved in some sort of hostage situation, and sat unmoving at the table, staring straight ahead.

The awkwardness between Jeff, Cary, and myself was palpable. I think people outside cleared their throat and messed with their hair in an unconscious response to the awkward energy radiating from the apartment.

Carol, completely unfazed and positively thrilled with the surprise party, brought out a cake. The three of us sang Happy Birthday to Jeff, who was making the same face one would make while watching some old people make out. We all sat around the table, choking down the cake that tasted exactly how this “party” felt.

Cary and I stared at our plates and shoveled down the cake as fast as possible, while Carol beamed around at her clever little party. I glanced at my phone to see that we’d been the MVPs of this surprise party for approximately 10 minutes.

But it was time to rip off the bandaid. I stood up and said “Boy, 7:40 p.m. already? We’d better get home. We’ve got uh… pets to wash. And. Other Things. Anyway. Happy Birthday um… was it Jeff? Nice to meet you. You have a lovely home. I like your capes. See you later.”

And when I see you later, let’s aggressively avoid eye contact and pretend none of this ever happened.