Will It Ever End?

And by "it" I mean, every awkward situation in the world I am left unprepared to deal with.  Thursday night Brian and I watched "I Love You Man."  Which, if you haven't seen it, is basically a story about a man who has no guy friends, decides he needs some, and then ensues a series of awkward exchanges in his attempt to procure friends that come so close to real life that I almost had to stop watching.  There was one point where the main character is leaving a phone message for his potential "friend" that was so extremely painful for me to listen to because it was as if I WAS LISTENING TO MYSELF EVERY SINGLE TIME I'M ON THE PHONE.  

The next day I head to the salon for my third haircut with the "hugger" who I have not had the heart to hair-cheat on.  It's better for me to keep getting haircuts that I'm not super stoked about than to have a potentially uncomfortable confrontation with this lovely young woman.  I tell her that I want a shorter cut this time, meaning a shorter bob.  She did not give me a bob, what she gave me is more like a Barry.  Whatever, the hair will grow out.  But I'm going to have to face this situation at some point.  Or, I'll just keep settling in order to be nice.  It'll probably be the latter.

As I stood at the counter waiting to pay, the pretty woman at the counter (and frankly I find the fashionable and lovely women at the counter intimidating) who is settling my bill asks, "you live at 413 W. Fort Wayne?"  I think she is simply confirming my address.  She then proclaims, "I live at 418!"  Here is the number one awkward moment of the week that followed.

First of all, my mind is whirling, quickly trying to do postal math to try to figure out where this woman lives.  I have no idea.  I know she must live close by but I really have no concept of where.  So I say:

Me:  "I live in the yellow house."
Mysterious Neighbor (MN): "I live in the yellow house."
Me:  "Which one of us lives in the yellow house?"
MN:  "Did you just move in?"
Me:  "No.  Did you just move in?"
MN: "Yes, in November."
Me: "Do we live across the street from each other?"
MN: "We live diagonal from each other.  Are you the piano teacher who lives next to Karen?"
Me:  (Feeling like a heel because she knows all about me and I know nothing about her) "Yes.  How many kids do you have?"  (Immediately feeling foolish because kids are baby goats and I should have said children.)
MN: "Three."

The conversation continues.  She's lovely.  It ends with her saying that I should come over sometime if I see her outside and we'll have a glass of iced tea.  She was just being nice.  She thinks I'm an imbecile.  I sort of think so too.  I'm beginning to think that salon is completely bad news and I should probably just seek a new one.