Imagine. You're happily walking into a restaurant, say Red Robin, and suddenly, you've realized something. You're at a monumental crossroads. It's the dreadful, momentary and anxiety-filled decision on what seat to occupy for the next few instances of your life. At this said table, your whole experience is determined by which chair your tush warms. I know, I'm a bit dramatic, but hopefully you'll understand my dilemma and how I've learned to cope. Depending on the people that convinced me to leave my dog at home, I'll favor either the corner or the seat one away from the edge. Hardly ever that wretched middle row.
To me, the middle row of a table is stifling. I'm pulling teeth when I have to figure out which direction I posture myself. Usually and painstakingly, I'm listening to two conversations; participating in none. I'll sip my water, wait for a group to laugh, and raise the volume of my slightly off-timed laughter. Now, it takes practice, reader, but once you've mastered it, you can survive what I call "death row". It sounds like this:
*roars of laughter from both ends of the table*
*face one side, lean in, and execute*
me: "ha.... ha...! HA. HA..."
Piece of cake. Well, piece of something. They're laughing in 4/4 and I'm in 3/4. Somehow, I can make it work.
To those that understand me, I welcome you. To those that don't, be gone.
In large groups, you get a potluck of people. Conversations can vary because God made us so uniquely. It's awesome. Honestly, I think you and I don't necessarily need to get along. We're all different. You like country and I...I'm okay with that; grace goes deeper still. People may think that all Christians have to get along. Do we really? I think there's a valid reason why we have so many denominations. Not to say one is right, but we have differences and that's okay. A body is a body because it consists of organ systems not all... bladders. I don't know. (I had to pee when thinking of that sentence.)
Before you spit out my opinion, think about it. You and I have certain groups we mesh better with. Sometimes, it means conversations that flow smoother than fresh peanut butter gently gliding over that overpriced gluten-free, GMO free, and cage free bread you bought at a premium. And you know what? Sometimes, there may be conversations that convey what a chalkboard and scissors mating might be. Pure dIsSoNAncEE.
By now, you've single-handedly identified me as an introvert. You're right. However, I'm not shy. Being introverted doesn't equate to being timid. On the other hand, extroverts aren't always so expectantly outgoing. My MBTI? INTJ. Share with me what you are! I enjoy engaging in conversations with people but I'm awful in crowds. If anything, you'll find me slowly distancing myself to observe the motion picture before me. I like people-watching. Seriously. It's a gift being able to witness individuals with their own, well-deserved thoughts somehow conveying it to others. Some are epic, some have gotten 0's on Rotten Tomato. It's freaking awesome.
So what do I do?
I'm flawed beyond belief, but I love God and his people. I know it sounds like I'm terrible with people. Maybe I am, but I'm somehow here. I'm here to interact with other awkward and broken people like me. We'll lean against our beloved, cherished walls and chat. Even for the above picture, Dan and I were situated quaintly beside the windowed-wall. To butter him up a bit, he's an awesome brother whom I've had the privilege of doing life with. You helped me survive my sophomore year. Thank you.
I'm still trying to discern where I want to take this blog. The focus is getting clearer. I want to keep YOU, reader, updated on people I meet and the things I do while I'm here in the beautiful Blacksburg, VA. If you're going to support me, I want you "meet" them yourselves. The extent? Not sure yet.
I'll end with this Dan-cing video.
I completely forgot to paint the scenario of when you'd sit one away from the corner.
You'd pick the one-away, when you know two people are good friends. I know, devilish. We have to survive that social jungle somehow. As they engage, you're automatically included! I've been in countless situations where the only audibles that would fly through the air are pleads for napkins and "the pepper." Most of the times, my solicitations would hit the floor. If I'm lucky, they shamefully roll off my shoe.
This is why I sit near the ends of a table. I don't have to decide the direction to lean. The ends provide me a psuedo-comfort.
I still need to pee.