Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Solution to an Age-old Problem

First of all - my capitalization in this post title is all askew. Can someone put me in my place? "To" and "an" should not be capitalized, right? Should "old"? Even if it's a conjecture? What the hell is a conjecture? O well scru grammerz!

So this happens to everyone - you have a small chat, more like an interaction really, with a stranger at some establishment. It's nice, it's whatever. Maybe you discuss the food you just ordered, the loud crash that the busboy just caused, the weather. Some banal bullshit to pass the time while you wait for your everything bagel to crawl its slow ass through that rolling toaster.

You get your treat, bid your new acquaintance "farewell" and book it the hell out of there, cause let's be honest this place is so below you. But low and behold, your new pal just got his orange mocha frappaccino and is walking right behind you. "Ughhh", you mumble. Seriously, who doesn't cringe when this happens? You've already said goodbye, now you have to awkwardly walk next to each other like you don't even know each other is there. It's the worst.

Well this happened to me today. This happens to me alot, actually. I was at Panera pacing between the bakery and the restaurant deciding if I wanted breakfast or lunch (it was 10:45, what would you have done?!). I got both. Anyway, as I'm pacing around, I get in the way of this tall yinzer dude not once, but three times! By the third time we giggled about it and shared the obvious, "are you following me?!" stupid quip. I get my food stuffs, go to leave, and who's hot on my tails but my sandwich shop stalker. "Ha ha!" we both force out, and as he holds the door for me to leave, we exchange "have a good day!", "you too!" blah-de-blah.

Another audible "Ughhhh". He's walking right next to me in the parking lot. Mind you, I'm parked on the farthest side of the lot. Apparently, so is he. I'm feeling physically distressed by this point, I consider taking a knee to concede. But I grin and bear it, our shifty head movements show that we both know how lame and awkward this is. As we reach our cars, I start to panic, do I have to say goodbye again? Is it rude if I just take off??

But then, cool as day, in the perfect tone, with the perfect grace, my likeable yinzer solved this age-old problem. As he opened the door of his rusty flatbed, he said, "Go Stillers!"

...And that's how it's done.


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