Monday, May 4, 2009

The King of Small Talk

I was invited this evening to see a reading of two plays in progress by a former classmate whom I haven't seen or talked to in over 2 years.  The plays were great; lots of really good material that made me terribly jealous.  

But I had my own little scene, too, when I first spoke to my classmate.  I call it "Socially Awkward, #3247".

Enter Me.  Just next to the door stands Her, welcoming everyone as they enter the reading room.  

Her: Hi!

Me:  Hi! 

Me and Her embrace.

Me: Thanks for inviting me!

Her: Thanks for coming! It's great to see you!

Me: You, too! You, too. I can't wait to see your shows. 

Her: Thanks.  I can't wait for you to see them!

Pause.

Me: So, how have you been?

Her: I'm good, I'm good. How are you?

Me: Oh, good, good. 

Pause.

Me: I can't wait to see your work. 

Her: Yeah, me neither.  I look forward to hearing what you think. 

Longer, horror-filled pause.

Her: How's Fr. O'Hare??

Me (desperately relieved):  Oh, he's good.  He's good.   Still thick with that Irish charm.  

Beat. 

Me: He could talk water from a stone! (Internal Monologue: What the heck are you saying?)

Her smiles. 

A long pause.  

Me:  I can't wait to see your work.  

Her: Yeah, I can't wait for you to see it. 

Me scuttles off to beat himself senseless in whatever corner he can find.  Her breathes a great sigh of relief.