I Think I'm Alone Now

All this talk of bugs and afflictions must have had a detrimental effect on my immune system: I woke up yesterday feeling decidely fluish, and today I'm officially sick. It's not too bad, though, I'm not bedridden or anything. I am confident it will pass quickly.

I did something on Tuesday night that I almost never ever do: I went out by myself. It wasn't planned - I had tickets to see Annie at the Mod Club and was supposed to go with a friend, but he fell victim to food poisoning and, quite understandably, bowed out. After a couple of beers and a couple of hours calling everyone I could think of who might want to join me, with zero success, I threw up my hands and went anyway.

Upon arrival, I stood around, drank a couple of beers, people watched, and watched one of the opening acts (a local outfit called the Russian Futurists, who were neither Russian nor particularly futuristic - about half their set was pretty good, the rest sounded like unfinished songs). At first I felt awkward being by myself, thinking anyone who noticed me must be wondering "what's wrong with him? why is he alone?" I felt like the creepy old guy in the corner that no one would ever want to talk to. I'm not sure why these feelings came over me - it's probably residual insecurity leftover from junior high, where I was often alone and hyper-sensitive and fearful of what everyone thought of me.

This got tired very fast. I realized I was being ridiculous, insecure, and self-absorbed. No one gave a shit about little old me. Upon examining the crowd, I realized that half the people there who were with friends were simply standing around and not even conversing anyway. I eyed the area near the stage carefully in an effort to determine which group of people looked the most fun. I didn't want to watch the show next to a bunch of stand-arounds.

As it turned out, it wasn't necessary. I bumped into an acquaintance of mine on the way back from the loo and ended watching the show with her. We danced the entire time, natch, and I befriended the guy next to me during a particularly disco-esque moment. Steve was incredibly nice and fun, and when we got tired of waiting for my friend to reappear after the show, the two of us left with his friend Paige and shot the shit on the way home. We exchanged numbers so hopefully we'll hang out again. He was kind of cute, but I wasn't getting a hook-up vibe, which was rather refreshing.

It's a good thing I'm still capable of meeting new and interesting people. I'm rather distressed that out of all the friends I left messages for the night of the show, I only heard back from two. Ouch. I used to think I was, you know, kind of popular, but I've definitely been taken down a notch. That's a Scorpio for you, though. Always assuming the entire universe loves them.

I wish sometimes I could step outside myself and get an accurate picture of exactly how I come across. Based on what I've been told, it's not exactly warm. In fact, something akin to a glacier seems to be the general concensus. When someone does actually deigns to strike up a conversation with me, I inevitably hear something like this:

"You're so down to earth. I totally thought you had attitude when I first saw you."

Great. So all the people I don't converse with think I'm a stuck-up bitch. That's just wonderful. No wonder nobody approaches me when I head out alone for an evening. I'm standing around, insecure and longing to make a friend while everyone around me thinks I think I'm god's gift.

I've tried to think of ways to combat this. As I am actually a pretty okay guy, it pains me to think of the number of people who have a brutal misconception of who I am. I've tried to be more smiley, but I either end up looking faker than Pamela Anderson's breasts or as insanely chipper as Don Knotts on Prozac. I try to manage my body language to look less tense and defensive, but I either end up looking more standoffish, or so languid I'm about to melt into a rippling pool of water. I try to strike up conversation with people, but it doesn't come naturally. I think I'm damaged from all the "don't talk to strangers" warnings I repeatedly heard as a child. I end up sounding like I'm desperately trying to make a new best friend to stalk for the next few years - very appealing.

So I give up. I'll be myself - strangers can draw any conclusion they want and I'm not going to worry about it. There are too many of them to worry about what they think. If you want to get to know me, you'll just have to forego your preconceived notions and talk to me. I promise I'll be nice.