Spongebob is My Homie

I'm going to let you in on a secret: I'm not actually good with talking to people. Ok, well maybe sometimes. But after a little while in the retail business, I've found that some people have a gift of being able to walk up to anyone and start a perfectly natural conversation without hesitation or reluctance. I work with an amazing woman, a teacher, who has this gift and can talk ANYBODY into a sale. Beyond that, even, when the customer walks out our door, she know their name, their spouse's name, their kids names, and their life story. And they feel like they've made a new friend.

Man do I WISH I could be like that. Me, I get this crawly awkward feeling half the time I approach a customer, and the voice in my head is rambling about bothering people and being the creepy sales person who won't leave you alone, and then I start talking and I talk too fast or I get tongue tied and mush words together and it's just uncomfortable. Forced. Now I do a pretty good job of faking it, and most customers have no idea that I'm uncomfortable, and sometimes I really do alright without the subconscious self-sabotage.  But a lot of the time when I'm walking up to someone to say, "Hi, can I help you?" I really want them to tell me to go away.

Then I have this other problem: On my good days, when I'm on a roll and my conversations are going well, I'm out of my own head and I'm actually enjoying my job and talking to people, sometimes my mouth gets ahead of my brain. I go into auto-sales mode, and I say dumb stuff like, "Hi ladies," because that's what I just said to the last group when actually I'm looking at a woman and her husband. Or I start to say one thing, but my brain is thinking something else, and I end up with some weird combination of the two differing trains of though that makes no sense, or worse, makes sense but means something weird. I had a moment like that yesterday.

It was a GREAT day: Alex came home yesterday morning, and I was walking on air to have him back. When I'm in a good mood, I work well, and we were scheduled to have a special event for Valentine's Day with lots of business and my favorite coworkers all lined up to work with me, so I came to work in a pretty upbeat mood. That's probably why I didn't freak out when my manager told me she had a special job for me for the event; and by special she meant exactly the worst job for me to be doing with my awkward don't-be-creepy-and-bother-people mentality. She made me that person out in the mall that you walk on the other side of the hallway, or pull out your cell phone for an imaginary conversation, or suddenly become fascinated with the ceiling or the floor or the opposite wall to avoid. She made me the "Would you like to try this?" girl. In a pink apron and a pink bow (blech), I stood outside the store with samples of our newest fragrance and shouted at passers by. I shamelessly tried to guilt guys into Valentine's Day purchases, enticed children with free ribbon bracelets, and called to people obviously trying to avoid my gaze... all in the name of doing my job well. I exchanged sympathizing looks with the kiosk girls getting the same treatment, and joked that we all needed "I promise I'm not creepy" t-shirts. But I was doing alright, minimally creepy and actually successfully luring customers in to shop, until I happened to see an African American family with a little boy wearing a Spongebob shirt.

Families with girls were easy, because the pink ribbons I was handing out brought them running. Getting moms with little boys over required a little more interaction on my part. I'd been thinking on my feet, dishing out compliments and waves and friendly greetings, but I saw that shirt and knew it was an opportunity. I bombed it. I pointed and said excitedly, "I LOVE your shirt! Spongebob is my..."

Now you know that moment I was talking about when your mind is going one direction and your mouth is somewhere else and something embarrassing comes out? I think my head was going for "Spongebob is awesome" while my mouth was more in the direction of "my favorite." Anyway, there was an imperceptible instant of confusion that I had no CLUE what I was saying, and somehow I spit out, "my HOMIE!"


Spongebob is my HOMIE? Oh, I did NOT just say that out loud for all the mall to hear. But I had. Here I was, a white woman in a pink apron handing out perfumed pink ribbons, declaring in a crowded mall hallway to a little black boy that I have a cartoon homie. Fantastic.

I think my face saved me, because even though I recovered quickly, his parents laughed at me instead of getting upset or offended. Or maybe it didn't sound as racist or offensive to them as it did to me as the words left my mouth. Maybe I was funny. I got a few mixed chuckles and weird looks from other shoppers, so I have no idea. They kept walking without stopping to talk to the creepy homie lady, which was fine with me. I kept doing my thing, and soon everyone who had heard the exchange had moved on to do their shopping. In the scope of the entire day, it was a tiny speed bump. Embarrassing, of course, but fleeting.

But that's what happens to me sometimes. Most people don't know, but I'm a socially awkward person pretending to be a confidant extrovert most of the time. That is, until something stupid like, "Spongebob is my homie!" slips out. Oh well.