Friday, September 28, 2012

How awkward is this?

There's this couple in my church. I will call them Ross and Rachel.

I have a friend. I will call her Monica.

Rachel had a baby, their first baby. Monica and I wanted to stop by, bring them a gift and a meal, to congratulate them.

"Well, we don't want any visitors, you know, with a newborn. Could you just drop it at the door and leave?"

(Side note: I'm not going to lick your baby's face or stick my germ-covered hands in his mouth. I don't even need to hold him. Stop telling people to stay away from you, first time parents, it comes off as neurotic.)

Monica reminds them that we are bringing FOOD, and it is more than a little weird to leave that on the doorstep for an undetermined amount of time.

(Side note again: Yes. I think eating food that may have begun to rot is grosser than letting people I know be in the same room as my children.)

Monica and Rachel text back and forth for TWO HOURS trying to come to an agreement about when we should be able to stop by. Rachel keeps pushing it back "We need thirty more minutes" over and over again. Eventually we decide that 5:00 PM is a good time for everyone.

Monica and I get in the car, with Monica's kids in the backseat. Her kids are big enough to be responsible in the car for five minutes, but not quite ready to be home alone for a half hour. We head over to Ross and Rachel's house. I knock on the door and we hear Ross yell... something.

"Did he say 'coming'? Or 'come in'?"

He yells again. "COME IN!"

As Monica chants "awkward awkward awkward" under her breath, I push the door open and...

They're hoarders.

No joke, straight up, HOARDERS. The house is FULL of broken stuff (including, I kid you not, the innards of an upright piano). The halls are literally cut in half because there is so much stuff stacked up against the walls. The house is dark and dank, and there is absolutely zero horizontal space for me to set this dinner down on. Somehow, I don't think strangers breathing the same air as their baby is the biggest health risk that baby will face during the first few days of her life. Just saying.

Walking through the (dingy and cramped) hallway, I say, "We brought you dinner!" as brightly as I can.

Ross responds with, "I know. Sorry. We're just not that kind of people."

We're. Just. Not. That. Kind. Of. People.

Who eat dinner? Who answer their own door? Who expect visitors occasionally?

WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE ARE YOU NOT?!?!?!?!?!

Never mind. Don't answer that.

I set their dinner down, someplace, and Monica gives them the gift. They set it aside. We've apparently interrupted their TV time.

They stand and Ross says, "I've never seen either of you before in my life."

Well, now it's double awkward, because I spoke to Ross SIX DAYS before this happened. We had a discussion in Sunday School about repentance and asking for forgiveness. (He didn't think you need to ask for forgiveness, in case you're curious about the substance of that conversation. You're probably not, but the point is that I REMEMBER WHAT HE SAID. He doesn't remember we spoke.)

Monica and I try to politely remind them of who we are, Rachel remembers and refers to us both by what I can only assume are code-nicknames they use amongst themselves. They refer to my husband as "The Screamer."

Lovely.

Background: My husband spoke in sacrament meeting about how he has trouble controlling his temper. In order to make people understand that he does NOT hit me or our children, he was very clear that his temper displayed itself as a lot of shouting. And it's true. Controlling our tempers is something both hubby and I have worked long and hard on. It's a struggle, it's not something either of us are proud of, but it's the truth. And we're both improving (thus the fact that he mentioned it in sacrament- God truly loves us and will help us to become better people).

Ross tells me over and over and over again how highly he thinks of my husband for being proud of being a screamer. (Please note: NOT a screamer. Sometimes, rarely as of recently, a shouter. Also: not proud of it.)

I stood there (because, of course, there's no room to sit), listening to Ross, who didn't want me to come over in the first place, who doesn't remember speaking to me ever, and who didn't get up to answer his own door, rehash one of the most sensitive and painful pieces of my personal life.

Repeatedly.

Monica interrupts (bless her) with a change of subject. "Oh, that is such a pretty blanket!" (wrapped around the baby).

Ross responds with, "Ugh. We asked for all green stuff, and this was the closest we got, this weird blue and green thing."

They had a baby girl, FYI. (And named her something ridiculous, of course, but that's beside the point.)

Monica kinda grabs me by the elbow and is all, "Well, we have to go, my kids are waiting in the car, see you later! Congrats!"

As we are walking down their walkway, Monica asks, "So, do you think they'll like the pink polka-dotted blanket I got them?"

26 comments:

  1. Melbourne on my MindSeptember 28, 2012 at 5:36 AM

    ZOMG. I think this is quite possibly the best awkward story I've ever heard. And let's be honest - I have a lot of awkward stories, and so do you... At least there were kids in the car to give you an excuse to get out?????

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  2. I almost can't believe this really happened. Of course it would happen to you. Hahahaha.

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  3. WHOA. That is the most hilariously awkward story ever. I love that you gave them pseudonyms from a sitcom because that actually sounds like a sitcom scene!

    I know you can't say what it is publicly, but I'm dying to know what the baby's ridiculous name is.

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  4. HORRID. And HILARIOUS. But AWFUL. I can't even form sentences right now.

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  5. *sigh* it really is weird enough when you have a baby and people want to come over, or are on the other end of that exchange, but the circumstances of this one just make it ten times worse :-(
    I'm so sorry for you and Monica... The whole time I was cringing for you.

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  6. I feel so bad for poor Rachel! Now we know why she was trying so hard to get you and Monica to not come over.

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  7. I know! You know people mean well, but you're just not up to visitors! And I can only imagine how hard it is when you're desperately trying to hide a socially awkward or mentally ill husband and/or a hoarding habit. Yowsa!

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  8. There are no words for this story. That is like a million times awkward and they seem really rude. I mean here you are trying to do something nice and they are just downright weird. But now I really want to know what they named their kid.

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  9. Wooooowwww. That's just. Wow. Had I been in that situation, I probably would've been terribly uncomfortable, but I would've come out of it thinking, "This will make a great story for the blog." It's moments like that when I'm somewhat glad that ridiculous things occasionally happen to me in my life because I can share them with all you other wonderful bloggers who also occasionally have ridiculous things happen in your life. :)

    And seriously...if someone gets you a gift for your child, generally they give you a gift receipt. If you don't like the "weird bluish green" blanket and reallyyyyyy wanted a green one for your baby girl...go exchange it. Oy.

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  10. I seriously don't know what I would do in this situation. Actually, no, I probably would have given up when they said they didn't want me coming over. Unless someone is a really close friend, that is way too much effort to go through when you're just trying to do a nice thing.

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  11. "Monica" and I are assigned to Rachel as visiting teachers. It's our "responsibility" (I hate using that word, because it sounds like I don't WANT to do nice things for people) to make sure she knows that we're thinking of her and we care for her. Monica has met her before, but I am new to the area and didn't know her well at all.

    If it was a close friend, I wouldn't have even called, I just would have dropped by, taken over, cleaned their kitchen, given them meals and put their laundry going while she slept.

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  12. Right?

    There's nothing wrong with wanting things a certain way, but complaining about a gift to people you barely know seems rude and unnecessary.

    And, for reals.

    I love that I have blogging as an outlet for my crazy stories, and that I have crazy stories to fill my blog.

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  13. You're more generous than I am.

    And, like I said on twitter, she got edited out of the condensed version, but she was definitely a contributing factor. (She was the one who identified Monica, me, and my husband by the inside-joke-nicknames, after all). And then, after all the "I don't want you to get my newborn sick" stuff, she kept trying to get me to hold the baby after "Monica" said we had kids in the car and had to go.

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  14. Honestly, we're here visiting teachers, but we didn't really want to do a "visit". We just got assigned to her recently, and we knew with a new baby that this was not the time for a lengthy "get to know each other" visit. We GENUINELY just wanted to do something nice, let her know we're here to help.

    If they didn't want us in their house, they very easily could have ANSWERED THE DOOR and taken the gift and food from us. Sixty seconds. Tops. Instead, they yelled, "COME IN!" and cornered us into conversation.

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  15. It's like an 8 out of 10 on the ridiculous scale- I've heard worse. But still. It's a contributing factor to the overall crazy.

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  16. OF COURSE.

    I think I leave myself in awkward situations for far too long. Most other people would have bailed long before I did. And I didn't even bail- I got bailed out by my companion.

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  17. This one is only a week or so old, and it's already one of my favorites. And, YES, thank heavens for those little girls out in the car!!!

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  18. Like the Adamm's Family?

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  19. Well, in that case I stick with my original statement.

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  20. I think it's Addam's Family. Anyways, she could change it later if she hates it.

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  21. You're right. That IS awkward!

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  22. Poor baby. Her parents are nutcases AND she has a stupid name? I really hope there are some normal people in her life.

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  23. I can't.... I don't.... I just.... WOW. Never go back there. EVER!

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