Monday, June 15, 2009

Je Suis un Inadapté

I want to go home.

There I've said it.

I've made something of an idiot of myself and I want to go home.

Friday night was Sabrina's end of season soccer party and one of the other soccer moms offered up her house for the party. I was really looking forward to the get together because I hadn't really had a chance to visit with the other moms, plus after days and days of cold rainy weather, Friday afternoon turned into a beautiful day with actual SUNSHINE.

And the party went great. But here is where I screwed up.

When we were leaving the party, I looked around at this nice woman's expertly decorated house and saw that there were beer bottles, wine glasses, plastic cups, bowls, napkins, and other party paraphernalia everywhere. And all the guests were making a beeline for the door. So I told the hostess that if she would like, I would be happy to help her clean up - I just needed to run my husband and kids home and then I would be back in a jiffy to help her. Of course, she protested and said, "No, no. I don't need any help." I said, "Really - I don't mind at all." And she said, "Well, OK, if you want to come back that would be great."

So I left her house thinking, "Cool! Maybe we'll get to gossip about all the other moms while we load the dishwasher! Find out who does her hair while we wipe down counter tops! I'll get the scoop on her vegetarian chili recipe while we wrap up leftovers! Three cheers for female bonding!!!"

But when I got back to her house a mere 20 minutes later, I was greeted with, "Oh. I didn't think you would actually come back."

"Well, of course I came back! What can I help you with?"

"Nothing. I don't need you to help with the cleaning up!"

"No really, I came to help."

"No really. I don't want you to help."

Which left me just kind of standing there thinking, "Well, this is awkward." I mean it's not like I showed up at her door with a bottle of Windex and roll of paper towels, but I don't know these people well enough to just pop in for a social call. Standing there in the doorway, I could feel the blood rush to my face as I tried to figure out how I misread the signals. Was I supposed to come back over, or not? If I say, "Oh - OK" and turn around and leave, will that be rude? If I walk in and put my purse down and start picking up beer bottles, is that rude?

At this point her husband tried to come to the rescue by offering me a drink. (Warning: This is the part of the story where I REALLY make an idiot of myself.) I told the husband thanks for the offer, but I brought my own. And then I pulled a Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonade out of my purse and twisted off the top with my shirt hem.

I know. Real. Classy.

Maybe I could blame it on a sudden onset of nervousness, but see, at the party earlier everyone was drinking wine and some weird kind of beer and I can't drink wine (migraines) and I am kind of particular about my beer (as in I only like Coors Light), so when I dropped my husband and kids off at home, I ran inside and grabbed a Mike's just in case there was still drinking going on.

So anyway, I ended up sitting in their formal living room drinking spiked lemonade out of the bottle (until the husband discreetly took it from me and poured it into a wine glass) and having polite conversation for about an hour. Of course, by this point I had worked myself into a nervous wreck and was just feeling completely inappropriate (do you know what I mean? where everything you say and do feels exaggerated and too loud and too, I don't know, too MUCH?). Like when they asked me if I had a job, I am pretty sure I said in a high pitched, self-righteous kind of way, "blogging is my passion, but I also do some human resources consulting on the side." Somehow I finally managed to say something about how the time flies and how I really needed to get home. I could practically hear them rolling their eyes and laughing at me as I got in my car.

As I made the short drive home, I realized the experience left me feeling kind of cheap, and kind of desperate. Like I had misread the signals and showed too much enthusiasm by coming back over, even though I could have sworn I had been invited.

I felt like I had let a boy go too far on a first date. Do you know what I mean?

Back at home, I found my husband waiting up for me in the dining room. "Did you make a new friend?" he asked.

"I don't think so. And, by the way, I want to go home."


Barb said...

Can we go together??

So completely understand this. It's like everyone speaks a language that they don't really want to share with us. At least your faux pas was with two (rude) people and not, say at the school carnival. I'm just saying...

I miss Texas.

Anita said...

Well - I must say those people will never know what they are missing - you are a wonderful person - a friend who loves unconditionally - their loss - our gain. Would love for you guys to be back! Dont let the foolishness and selfishness of people make you feel anyless of a person that you are. You are not here for man's approval you are here to utilize the talents that God gave you - sometimes standing alone for what you are and believe in feels lonely but wouldnt you rather stand alone than to keep that type of company?
Please remember you are an inspiration!

lolaperl said...

hey took us YEARS to connect england is not exactly a warm and fuzzy place to relocate to(and that's coming from a native new "yorkah")..don't go home, there's too many seasons of housewives to watch "togetha"

Kat said...

Wish you lived next door to me! Been in CT for 8 years, have yet to find tru "coffee klatch" friend - lots of friendly aquaintances though:)Hang in there! Kat in CT

Suburban Correspondent said...

It's rude to refuse a sincere offer of help. Even if they weren't expecting you, they should have pretended they were and allowed you to help clean up. They were the rude, awkward ones, not you. At least you know you don't want to get to know them better, right?

Where are you from?

Trenches of Mommyhood said...

Awww...if you had come back to my Trenches to help clean up, I would have hugged you! And then immediately put you to work. And then asked you if you had a spare Mike's I could drink.
Welcome to MA. We're not all Massholes, I promise.

Keetha said...

Oh, dear. I feel your pain. Signals misread, mayhaps? Sounds to me like you were in the right, being friendly and helpful and they were a mite unfriendly?