A couple of weeks ago, we had a braai at our local pub for Shoes' birthday. One of our friends, Moonface, invited along this dude she met when going to her local butcher for meat. Turns out he was the butcher. So The Butcher pulls in. He has recently arrived in London from SA, has no friends and his girlfriend of 3 years just broke up with him. Essentially MoonFace invited a stray puppy to our braai. Which is absolutely fine. But if you invite a stranger to someone else's party, they are your responsibility, fair and square.
I guess Moonface lost the Stray Puppy Etiquette Handbook. The girl showed up so unbelievably pissed, she couldn't string two words together in a sentence, leaving The Butcher high and dry in a group of strangers. We're a nice bunch, so we made him feel as welcome as we could. Shoes, however, was on his own mission that night, and didn't really speak much to our stray.
Then on Friday, Shoes popped into Sainsburys after work for some food. He was walking towards the queue with his basket when he looked up and noticed The Butcher at the checkout counter. Cue accelerated heart rate and nervous sweating. Shoes is not good at small talk. He did what any guy in his situation would do - he ducked his head and made for the nearest aisle, hoping he was quick enough to avoid detection.
"Shoes. Shooooes! HEY SHOES!!!!!"
Damn it! Spotted!
Resigned to his fate, Shoes turned to face his own personal hell (not The Butcher in particular, just the situation).
Shoes: Hey! Oh hey man, didn't see you there!
The Butcher: For sure, man. Hey! So.....
Shoes: So....
The Butcher: What you up to?
Shoes: Er....shopping dude. Erm, what YOU up to?
The Butcher: Er, shopping too. Obviously. Ha ha.
Shoes: Ha ha.
The Butcher: So...
Shoes: So.... So what do you do hey?
The Butcher: I'm a butcher.
Shoes: Oh right. Of course. We have a friend called Butcher.
The Butcher: Er...say again?
Shoes: Well actually his name's OJ, but we call him the Butcher.
The Butcher: *confused silence*
Shoes: Well I mean, he's not actually a butcher - not like you in any case. He just butchers tracks...never mind. It's not important. **
The Butcher: Er, no.....
Shoes: So....
The Butcher: So....
Shoes: You should come hang out some time. You know, with our group. There's a party next Friday night.
The Butcher: Cool dude, thanks. I might do.
Shoes: Ok, see you around dude!
The Butcher: See ya.
Thank the lord I am a girl with endless reserves of small talk and I don't have awkward moments like that.
**OJ often takes a trance set in mp3 format that is several hours long and cuts it up into individual tracks for us, hence his nickname The Butcher.
Monday 18 May 2009
Strange Guy Small Talk 101
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
oh is that why he's called The Butcher?!?!? I've wondered that for ages but always forget to ask!
Poooooor Shoes, still would have paid to have watched that conversation in action!
Argh I am exactly like Shoes and that conversation would have played out almost exactly the same way.
Shite that is funny!
Just thought I would say hi and that I found your blog via I'm so not a Blogger...
God. I can relate to Shoes. This is cringe worthy. :)
@Miss M - ...and the penny drops!
@Po - then you too would be highly entertaining to watch in action. ;-)
@Simply-Mel - hello and welcome!
@Spear - you should read about shoes shopping, it's in my blogroll somewhere. Equally cringeworthy. Boyfriends, meh! Gotta love them.
Oy... so do you think he's going to pitch?
Post a Comment