As you can see, I’m posting on time today, there’s just nothing new. I’m taking a break today. Besides, the tirade I posted on Monday was kind of like two posts. It was the length of two posts. Does this not count?

So, personal news. I had another bizarre conversation at the bookstore last week. Is this all I can think of to write about? Sadly yes. But I’m very much wondering at this point what, precisely, is the deal. This time I was looking for the new Weird Al album, Straight Outta Lynnewood. Now, I know Weird Al is the hottest item on the charts since, um. Cake? Yeah. Okay, I know I know nothing about popular music, so much so that I am completely incapable of making fun of it. So on with my story: was going to buy the new Weird Al album, but they were out of it. It happens.

When the sales guy who was helping me verified that his coworker sold the last copy, he said to me—and I’m absolutely not making this up—”Well she was being evil and sold the last one.”

It was a joke, I think, because he was laughing and the girl kind of rolled her eyes. But, and correct me if I’m wrong, that’s her freakin’ job. Yes, I know it wasn’t serious—and I know I overanalyze this stuff way too much, but come on! Worst save ever! I couldn’t even laugh at that. I have no idea what the guy was thinking, but I hope it wasn’t something along the lines of boy, I’m funny.

So after a confused pause of 2.4 seconds, I came back with the absolutely only thing I could think of to say which was, “that’s not evil. She’s doing her job—it was the customer who was being evil by buying it.” This was not supposed to be particulary funny, it was supposed to be recasting the original comment from my point of view as a customer. Kind of like the Russian reversal. (Een Russia, Veerd Ahl beyes yoo!) Best I could do under the circumstances, especially considering I’d never heard this one before.

It was a perfect example of what happens when my conversational matrix fails. Let me tell you: it works great most of the time, but when it fails, it fails. Upon delivery of my line, even the pseudo-laughter stopped. Now come on, people. Give me a little credit. You’re already pretending to laugh at your own lame joke—just keep pretend-laughing! Both clerks just stopped, the girl turns and walks away, and I attempted to save face with, “okay, don’t worry about it. I’ll check later.” Exit stage left.

Am I seriously this socially inept that I actually can’t carry on a conversation? I am! I already wrote about good and bad conversationalists, and—I’ll admit—I kind of fancied myself on the good end of the scale. Hubris, granted. But that’s only if I’ve got something to say. I can’t do small talk! I can’t do it! And it’s not like I can even say, “I’m not going to talk to anyone in the bookstore, anymore.” These two times were when I was being “helped” by the people who work there—I can’t avoid talking to the dang person! Social etiquette decrees that I respond!

I’m so lost.

-Ted