A Series of Unprecedented Events

I began writing this post a couple of weeks ago, before Christmas, but I sat on it until recently, because I wasn't sure I wanted to actually publish it. Then some things happened this week that made me think and reflect, so...here we are. Please don't think too poorly of me as you read it. You can laugh, though. Laughing's fine. I'm sure I deserve the laughing.

The most ridiculous, unprecedented things happened right before/after Christmas break, in the midst of some of the most innocuous of circumstances. Ridiculous things have a habit of choosing innocuous circumstances, come to think of it. I think they're in cahoots, plotting human shock and embarrassment to amuse themselves. Anyway. You're wondering what happened. Right. Back to that.

A Series of Unprecedented Events, Part I

A GUY (as in male, averaging somewhere between the range of 20 and 35), asked for my phone number.

MY PHONE NUMBER.

I'd have laughed about it at the time if I hadn't been so concerned I've been sucked through a vortex and ended up in an alternate universe. (Is that how vortexes work? Or is it black holes? I've never really watched Star Wars or Star Trek or anything of that genre in entirety, so I am rather fuzzy on the detailed inner-workings of science-fiction magic.)

The backstory: I went to a "mixer" Christmas/Holiday Party-something gathering in my apartment complex on Wednesday, and talked to a teacher friend from work who lives in my complex for a bit. She introduced me to her roommate and a couple of her other friends. I grabbed a slice of pizza (free dinner! yippee!), chatted with them for a few minutes, and then excused myself to go home. That's it.

No, literally, THAT'S IT. I think I said something about being a teacher, made a lame joke about children doing stupid things, and…yeah. 10 minutes conversation, tops. I don't even remember the names of either of the two guys; only the name of my friend's roommate, and that was just because I'd met her before.

The next afternoon, the day before our last half-day before Christmas break, as I'm trying to dig an ugly Christmas sweater for a friend to borrow from the back of my closet, I got a text from my teacher friend:

Hey Margaret Ann! I apologize in advance if this is too forward! My friend *Matt** enjoyed chatting with you yesterday and was interested in possibly exchanging numbers! I can give you his or I can give him yours if you're interested. There is no pressure from my end and I promise no one will have hurt feelings 😊[blushing smiley emoji]

Matt** is also a good friend to have at the very least 😊 [blushing smiley emoji again]

*Now, who the hell is Matt** again? I do not say this to emphasize how douche-y and self-absorbed I am, (though undoubtedly, this commentary proves it), but rather to shine a light on the fact that I TOOK VERY LITTLE NOTICE OF THIS PERSON. (Perhaps that also is proof of my arrogance.) I didn't even hardly speak to him. Was this the shorter guy with the slight (Scottish? Irish?) accent? Or the slightly-taller one who made some remark about wine types? 

The real irony of this is that through the whole 10-15 minutes I spent at that party, I was wishing I had stayed back in my apartment watching bad reality TV in my pj's, while trying to make a dent in the stack of seventy-some exams I needed to grade. In fact, when I walked home along the sidewalk to the other end of the complex, I actually thought to myself, "Gee, you know, I'm glad I went, if only because I have thoroughly enjoyed getting a break and breath of the brisk night air by myself a lot more than I actually enjoyed engaging in a social party."

The guy (at least I think I remember which one was Matt**....Wow, I really am pretty self-absorbed, aren't I? I'm normally bad with names, but this is a new low...) that apparently wanted to text me wasn't say, particularly unattractive, but he also wasn't really particularly attractive. I remember trying to be friendly, but I do not remember feeling like I was flirting (WAS I flirting? Can you flirt without realizing it? Should I be more concerned about keeping my smile in check??)

(Yeah, I know I don't know anything.)

So, you might be wondering how I replied. Well, I did a few things before I replied:

First, my eyes got really big (I feel like they probably did; I wasn't looking at them, obviously. Would be rather difficult. Also, I was looking at my phone.)

Then, I dropped my phone. (Thank God my apartment is carpeted! Phone status is safe and unbroken, by the way. I know you were very worried about that, me being a total klutz and all and shattering my last two.)

Then, I picked up my phone and stared at it, rereading. Nope, I did NOT have a momentary lapse of dyslexia, or become temporarily illiterate. Odd.

Finally, I took a screenshot, and sent it to my best friends with a weak plea for help on how to say no.

^(As you shall soon see, that was the stupidest thing I did, including dropping my phone and wondering if I'd gone dyslexic.) 

My friends' reactions were as predictable as I could have imagined. They all resembled something like,

"WHY WOULD YOU SAY NO?!$!$?!"

"OMGGG SORRY I JUST SAW THIS..."

"WWWWWWWWHHHHHHAAAAATTTTT!!!"

"Why do all the important convos happen when I'm busy and can't contribute??"

At this moment, you're probably wondering what the hubbub is about. (Hubbub is a great word, btw. Totally underused and underrated.) You are right to wonder this. Unless you know me, in which case, you would be wide-eyed and surprised, too. 

Lemme finish my story, and then I'll explain. 

So my friends' advice was to accept, and talk (read: text) Matt**, and get to know him. Maybe "make a new friend". I foolishly took their advice, and accepted my friend's offer. 

[Really, their advice was very kind, wise, and well-intentioned. But this encounter taught me that I know myself best, and when my conscience or my intuition warns me against something, I should listen. More on that later.]

A few hours later, I got a text from Matt**, and I replied. We chatted off and on for a few days, right up until Christmas. It was all (mostly) very innocent, with the exception of a remark I made about a prank I played on my brother at Christmas when he was little, and Matt's** reply, which was something like:

"I will endeavor not to cross you!" 

"Good plan" 

"Does this mean I might get to cross your path again?" 

"Oh no. It just means don't mess with me haha"

Please understand; I didn't mean to be so harsh. Actually, in my honest defense, I misread the text. I was typing it under the table (the better to keep it out of my nosy and dangerous siblings' per-views), and didn't look at it carefully. Maybe I really do have some symptoms of dyslexia. I never have been much of a good speller...

Anyway, I thought the guy had said, "Does this mean I might not get to cross your path again?"

See? I shut guys down, even without intending to! I come pre-programmed to destroy them. Should you ever have need of someone to chase away a boy, please contact me. I would be happy to provide you with my services, for a small fee, of course. (What? A teacher has to have a side-hustle to make some extra money!)

Now, are you starting to get an inkling of how clumsy I am at this?? I'm even more clumsy about boys than I am on my feet, and that's saying something, because I was the worst softball player to grace my school's varsity team in decades (No, I didn't really make the team; they just grandfathered me in and sat me on the bench all season. I was fine with that. It got me the sports credit). No joke, but you can laugh. If you'd seen me trying to catch a fly ball, you totally would laugh. Rightfully so.

In the end, I finally realized that I needed to let the conversation come to a close. I genuinely wasn't interested, and I don't think this guy realized what he was getting himself into (although, perhaps the aforementioned text gave him a hint). There was no reason I should continue to talk to someone I wasn't interested in--either as romantically, or platonically. After Christmas, I let it die, and just didn't reply anymore. That was probably very unkind and inconsiderate of me, but I can't say I regret it. I still think I did the right thing.

A Series of Unprecedented Events, Part II

A GUY (again, as in male between the ages of 20 and 35) asked me to dinner.

...Rewind to the same night before our last day of school for a moment with me. The next morning, a friend--let's call him 'Gus'**--from my small group bible study also texted me, and said he had some questions about teaching (Gus** had mentioned in small group before about thinking of making a career change to become a teacher), and wondered if we could meet for coffee. I was so busy with last day of school things and getting out of town to go home to my family I didn't have a chance to reply until late that evening, but I told him I'd be back in town on January 3rd, and I'd be happy to meet for coffee sometime after then and answer his questions.

So when school started back up this past week, Gus** contacted me again, and later in the week we met for coffee after work and talked for about an hour. Well, I say 'we' talked, but I carried most of the conversation in rambles. The guy is a tad socially awkward (also, he has this thing with his eyes, which is so not his fault, but it makes him look eerily at you--like when you're trying to draw a portrait, and you can't get the irises to line up so they're looking at the same position off the page--so frustrating and difficult, but that's what this guy's eyes look like all the time when he stares at you), so I tended to try to fill the awkward pauses. But he asked me some good questions, and I tried to answer them as best I could though sharing my personal experiences. In the end, it was all very innocent, save his insistence on paying for my hot chocolate. 

The next evening, Gus** texted again, thanked me for meeting him, and said he had one other question for me; could he give me a call? I didn't answer because I was busy with my sister, and packing for the impending snowstorm. The next night, I replied and agreed. He called me Saturday morning. The conversation was pretty brief. It started with the snow, moved on to him thanking me again, and finished with him asking me to dinner.

I said no.

Well, I didn't actually say no. I tried to give him a gentle no, phrased around me not wanting to get involved in dating anyone right now. I'm still not sure how kind--or how true--that response was. I probably hurt his feelings, but I honestly didn't mean to, if that counts for anything. I never meant to make him think I was attracted to him. Maybe I should have been meaner and scarier, or more awkward in person or over text. I don't know. 

To add a little more icing on the cake of your amusement: afterwards, I meant to text my best friends a picture of the SUPER EXCITING snowfall, with the caption: ❄SNOWWWW!!!!❄.

But the last message open in my iMessage app was....

.....

Yup. You guessed it. I messaged Gus** instead. What a brilliant, horrible person I am!

I never send messages to the wrong people. EVER. I am so careful; honest! 

Unless, apparently, I have just rejected you and I feel the need to unintentionally rub salt in the wound.

Guys, I am so untalented with all of this, I'm not even making it up. This is all 100% what happened. I REALLY am this bad. 

...So why am I talking about all this? Because it is all UTTERLY UNPRECEDENTED. (Hence the title.) In two weeks, two different people approached me for my phone number and to go on a date. No one has EVER wanted my phone number unless they got partnered with me for a school project, and no one has EVER asked to take me to dinner! What the hell is going on!? Is this a consequence of the 2016 Presidential Election? The Brexit? Global Warming?

In both of these situations, it's not even that I was flattered--maybe a little, but not the way I might have expected. I felt more embarrassed. You see, normally, there's this invisible force field that...

Hang on. Maybe I should rephrase that; I'm quickly realizing that Star Wars references aren't working for me--probably because I never could handle getting through Star Wars, so I don't get how light sabers or the Force works anyway. I never was one for space movies, and definitely not for wookies or robots that go around speaking in  indecipherable beeping language. Now that I've probably angered all you Star Wars fans and you're going to set on me with an angry mob, let me continue with a better metaphor.

Ahem.

Normally, I have a permanent disillusionment charm hiding me from other people. I don't recall casting it on myself; I've never really been sure how it got there in the first place, and I definitely haven't been able to figure out the counter-charm to remove it. Maybe it formed of its own accord from the pervasive odor of my supreme un-coolness as a child. Or maybe God just cast it over me for my own good. I will probably never know. Anyway, it basically acts like a shield that makes me semi-transparent, so that, in a room full of my peers, I am not acknowledged by many, and NOT AT ALL by males. Sometimes, that has been a major frustration and disappointment, and at others, it has been a saving grace. (It conveniently allows me to slip away unnoticed when I want to escape a situation or a group of people--they don't even miss me!) For better or worse, my sexual/social disillusionment charm is all I have ever known, so it is comfortable to me. If you're me, you get used to being semi-transparent, and, you begin to actually depend on it for protection from unwanted attention or humiliation.

So what the hell happened three weeks ago when all this started?? It makes me feel rather like the disillusionment charm just glitched and cut out, or got lifted for half a split second, and I somehow found myself exposed in my underwear. Except that no one warned me I was going to be rendered suddenly visible, and I certainly do NOT remember removing my clothes!

What does all this mean? I wish I knew. I wish I could explain why I'm chronicling Marge's Misadventures in Dating(?) [do you call it 'dating' if no one goes on a date? does it even matter?], except that maybe it makes others feel less embarrassed, and less pathetic. If you're reading this, I hope you walk away with more confidence in yourself, even if it is at my expense. I think maybe part of me feels like I need to admit this publicly, to inject some humility into myself, to make me less afraid of what other people think, and more convicted that the Lord is what really matters. Christ's Kingdom should consume my time and my worries, rather than my own shame or failings.

Maybe getting this out in the open will help to divert my concerns to the things I should really be caring about. I hope it gives you a sense of peace, too. We are all messed up and pathetic in our own ways, but God has more use for us than that. I can't let myself be a distraction from the work he has set for me in the world.

** Name is changed for obvious reasons.