Cocaine

While I'm Waiting for my Imminent Internet Demise


I'll go ahead and write while I can.



I'm socially inept.



I was just at Taco Time and I realized I don't know how to use my mouth in such a way as to communicate with another human being in a conversational manner.

I'm at the condiment counter when a woman says to me "Never get between a woman and her ketchup."

Now, I may have heard everything she said wrong, or I might be so jacked in the head that the clicks and buzzes that come out of other people's mouths are scrambled when they hit my brain, but I think I heard her correctly.

That last paragraph goes through my head as I go "Oh...yeah." Now I'm thinking that I should have responded with a lighthearted joke.

"It looked like you were going to get sauce on your jacket, so I was just warning you." Now she has switched gears into another conversation. I'm thinking for a lighthearted joke, find none. I grunt in some way of showing her that I acknowledge and respect her as a human being, but for some reason I can't talk in any human being fashion.

"I just didn't want you to get sauce on such a beautiful jacket." Now, she's thrown in a compliment. I think about the jacket – a Helly Hansen ski jacket. It's not exactly something I would describe as beautiful. Expensive, maybe (I bought it with the consolidation loan I blew on such things as a 1000 dollars at a fucking casino in a hick town, five years ago), but not "beautiful." Also, who calls a dude's ski jacket beautiful? Is she coming on to me? Is she hot? This all goes through my head before I look at her "Yeah. Um, huh?"

I walk away with my coke and hot sauce and I'm thinking she must think I'm:



a) the truth: socially inept

b) some asshole who refuses to speak to strangers who don’t have skiwear as beautiful as his.

c) a time traveler who hasn't picked up the social graces of 2005 America.



Experts still agree I should be shot and buried in space.



Pleace,


Matt