You know those situations in which you're so taken aback that you say precisely the wrong thing at the wrong time?  Like if you've just been told that your friend had died in a horrible, bloody bear-mauling, and the first thing that pops out of your mouth is, "Oh, good. I don't have to give him back his Hilary Duff CD."  Yeah, those situations suck.

In one of my classes [I'd prefer to leave the class unnamed], we had this group project due soon.  Our four-person group was gathered around a table discussing our presentation.  Not to brag or anything, but since I'd had the most experience with writing papers and college-level projects, I'd unofficially taken the leadership role in the group. [Yeah, that's right - I rule.]  Which was fine with me, as long as the other bastards did their share of the work and didn't blame me if their parts of the project sucked ass and we got a horrible grade.

The two girls in the group went to the school library to rough up some background information and to do some research on our topic.  That left me and the other guy to start outlining ideas for the paper.  Now, he was one of those guys who looked like he'd never been really popular in high school, one of those guys who were geeky but didn't really get good grades anyway.  The kind of guy who wears dirty white Converse shoes, jeans that seem too loose on him, and a faded yellow polo shirt complimented by a mess of dark, unkempt hair.  The greasy guy who always has a throbbing zit on his chin that he rubs around his oily face like it's a black pearl or something.

He slid his chair next to mine and we began to discuss the topics.  I caught a whiff of really bad B.O. and tactfully slid my chair back and away from him.  He scooted his chair right next to me again.  I figured he was lonely and wanted a friend or something, but seriously, he smelled pretty bad, like soggy, reheated onion rings and warm ranch sauce. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, I shifted my body in my chair so that I was holding the piece of notebook paper between myself and him.  Big mistake.

This new change in position meant that we were now face to face.  He kept looking at me like he wanted to say something.  This kid was really weird, but I couldn't qutie put my finger on it.  When I stopped talking to write an idea down, he seized the opportunity and tried to begin a conversation. 

So, where are you from?

Do you like it here?

What other classes are you taking?

All right, whatever.  If he wants to ask me questions, I can answer them.  No biggie.  Just... scoot away from me a little so I don't pass out from holding my breath for like 3 hours.  Please.

Do you have a girlfriend? 

No, currently, I'm single.

I figured that would make him feel better about himself, because he really didnt' seem like the kind of person girls would be fawning over.  But then he did something really, really weird.  He kind of grabbed the arm of my jacket and said in this really creepy voice,

I.. like your jacket.

Ooookay.  Heat level rising.  This shirt collar is too tight around my neck right now, and my feet are starting to sweat.  Can someone please turn up the air?  Better yet, can someone punch me in the face to keep me from experiencing what I fear I will experience very, very soon?

So... you doing anything this weekend?  Want to catch a movie or something?

All right.  That's it.  I began looking for an exit.   The professor was across the room talking to some students, and there was no one close enough to us to make an subject-change converstation viable.  Crap.  When turned to look at him again, I almost threw up.  His face was about 3 inches from mine, and my God, the smell was horrible.  I felt something rub against my leg in a very disturbing manner, and I frantically prayed that it was a South American Reticulated Diamond Python about to kill me, instead of his smelly-ass foot trying to get into my pant leg.

Now, at this moment, I could have said or done so many things to get myself out of this situation.  I have to use the restroom.  Sorry, I have to help my parents with some errands.  I have to wash my hair like 93 times.  I'm moving to Ethiopia for missionary work. I don't date freaky, nasty-smelling men.  But like a true, loyal friend, when I needed him the most, my brain suddenly decided to kick me in the nuts run off like a friggin pansy.  I needed to say something, anything.  Fast.  I was sweating like some really fat guy's ass on a hot day in the Amazon.  The rank odor of sickening body odor was about to make me vomit in this guy's face.  But thank God I'm quick on my feet.  Under all this strain and uncomfortable waiting and awkward staring, I said the first thing that popped into my head.  And boy, it was a doozy.

Uhhh... sorry.  I'm going out with my girlfriend this weekend. 

Crap.

I thought you said you didn't have a girlfriend?

Craaaap.

Now here's where it gets exciting.  Fun-in-your-pants exciting.  Boy-am-I-glad-I'm-not-him exciting.  Wow-he's-so-witty-let's-hug-him exciting.

Oh.. yeah. About that.  I, uh, actually do have a girlfriend.  Umm... three of her.

...crap.

He knew I was lying.  I knew I was lying.  Hell, the python slowly crawling up my thigh probably knew I was lying.  By this time, my shirt was soaked from sweat, but I didn't want to take off my jacket in fear that I might trigger some sort of crazy, geeky, homosexual madness that would result very badly for me.  He was about to say something [probably about my strange three girlfriends], but I didn't want to hear it.  I began to make some excuse as to why I had to leave right then.

Sorry, but.. I have.. to.... uhh.. drive.. soon.

I knocked my chair over in my attempt to get the hell away from this guy, and everyone looked over at me.  Yeah, look at me now.  Thanks for not looking over a minute ago and saving me from this situation.  Man, that's severely MESSED UP.  I ended up hanging around the professor for the next hour of class, asking him every single question I could think of so that I wouldn't have to go back to my table.  The guy kept looking at me.  I was afraid.  When it was time to go, I bolted.

I have to see him again this week.

God, help me. 

Written by jihwan at 10:10 PM.

9 x 0 = 0