Hermit’s Night Out

You know those cringe-worthy moments you sometimes have when dealing with people? Like when a waiter says “enjoy your meal”, and you say “you too”. Or when you’re day-dreaming then suddenly awareness comes back and you realise you’re making really awkward eye contact with someone, or worse, someones crotch. Over the last ten or so years, I’ve learned how to prevent these pesky social landmines, by avoiding socialising all together. Marriage, children and so-hot-right-now mental illnesses have provided the perfect cover a life of hermitism (probably not a real word, but should be. Hermitude maybe?).

Oh sorry, I didn't realise that I was staring...

Oh sorry, I didn’t realise that I was staring…

But now I’m not married, and am (currently) mental fit, and every second weekend, I don’t even have the children. I’m out of excuses, so I went out, and I learned some things:

♦ I have nothing to talk about and small talk is hard.

♦ Some bars need more seating. I’m too tired to stand at the end of the day.

♦ If people find out that you’re divorced, they’ll tell you about their divorce. They will probably cry. This is unsettling.

♦ People will not believe you if you say that you and your ex are friendly. They will actually argue with you about this, and tell you all about how he’ll either, a: take your children away and turn them against you, or b: reject your children and stop paying child support. These are the only options.

♦ Some of these people may try to do drunk reiki-like analysis on you, then tell you how stressed and unhappy you are, “oh my god, you’re so tense!”, “That’s because your touching me, and you’re spilling your drink on me”.

♦ Monteith’s Green Apple Cider! So so good.

♦ I love my bed.

Most of the weirdness probably comes from not knowing anyone except for the friend I went with. Which means I’m going to have to do this more to make the weirdness not weird any more. I think I’ll just ease myself into this slowly.

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3 thoughts on “Hermit’s Night Out

  1. I hate socialising, socialising is my arch nemesis…no I must retract that statement, I have gotten myself a job wherein I knew full well there will be quite an inordinate amount of socialising required, I’m dreading it. All my workmates are at least 10yrs my senior. They socialise like their 20 something. My job entails going to parties, networking (as in actually talking to people I don’t know and making sure they know who I am and what I do and where they can find me), what in the actual was I thinking? I have become that boring old fart who misses her bed while she plasters a fake smile to her face and tries in vain to ensure she knows where the conversation is heading. I drag H along, he can share in my suffering and sympathise as we head home, also he can drive because I am expected to be drinking. I’m an office manager for a non-profit trust who deals with millions of dollars a year. I avoid malls like the plague, I hate the supermarket on benefit payout day, concerts are an adventure because like an old fart I always buy a seated ticket, I choose trails in the forest I know there will be very few people. I applaud your re-entry to the social scene. May the universe not be too much of a dick and get her laughs elsewhere for awhile, oh wait, maybe that would make the socialising better, may the universe introduce you to weird people who are compatible with your weirdness and may you all be happily weird together, I am of the opinion there is nothing better than weirdos who are happy.

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