My Friend Is The World

So I heard through a grapevine that someone I met a couple of months ago described me as “awkward.”

My first response was, “He’s dumb and I hate him. (middle finger)”

It then occurred to me that I am awkward, so I found the guy, apologized for telling someone I hated him and that he was dumb, then gave him some leaves I had found outside. After, I laid down and made carpet angels for him.

I figured since we both agreed I was awkward, I could just be me.

After a moonwalking demonstration, listing all the fruits I like and reciting some short stories I wrote in high school, I asked him if he’d like to go get naked at my cabin in the woods.

He awkwardly declined and I thought, “Oh… I’m the awkward one?”

I started getting the sense I was making him a little uncomfortable, so quickly changed the subject and asked him if he saw that art exhibit where skinless dead people are partaking in various activities, like bicycling and playing cards. I thought maybe some pop culture would alleviate the tension and help us find some common ground.

Clearly I tried everything, but we just weren’t connecting. It was at that moment I realized that each of the 7 billion people on this planet might not be my friend.

I was also getting the sense I was about to be asked to leave, so I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I thought I could regroup, come back and start over.

By the time I emerged, he said something about the police and I said I liked their older stuff but Sting got kind of weird and now says he has orgasms that last for hours. Everyone likes fun facts, except seemingly you know who (points to Mr. Awkward).

Then he was getting angry and I didn’t get it. I told him I was just trying to be his friend. He said he didn’t want to be my friend, and my first reaction was to ask for my leaves back, but I decided that was petty and I could get more (even though those were really nice ones).

As I was exiting he said, “Maybe in the next life.”

I took that as a positive sign I was finally getting through that tough exterior, so I replied, “It’s a date! And who knows? Our next lives might be playing skinless chess together for eternity. You better practice. I’m no slouch.”

Truth is I’m not very good, but he didn’t need to know that. It was more about getting into his head before the big game. I think it worked. I could sense the fear. Now I guess the pressure’s on me to back it up.

I left with a feeling we made some progress and I had changed his mind about me. It was a good feeling.  Maybe I can be friends with everyone in the world. I might be getting the hang of this social thing.

And that’s really one of the big reasons I came to Serendipity in the first place. I realized I needed to work on my social skills and thought it would be easier if I was naked. Strangely, it was.

In fact, I find myself to be more comfortable at the park than just about anywhere. It’s like all social awkwardness disappears.

I think it’s because any social vulnerabilities people might feel are washed away by the ultimate vulnerability of wearing no clothes, and the pressure that relieves makes all the difference.

I’m doing a poor job describing it and know it seems like it wouldn’t be transcendent, but it really is. Until there’s a writer around that can more accurately convey it, you’ll just have to experience it for yourself.

And guess what? The perfect time to do that is now.

The Christmas party is this Saturday, and man, are they a good time. Sure, it’s a little chilly, but that’s why God made robes and hot tubs. (Maybe not in that order. Probably hot tubs first, then he had to deal with the cold naked people running around. We will now call that scientific fact.)


















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