All right kids, it's time to zip up your fly, floss the broccoli out of your teeth and kick the toilet paper off your shoe, because we've got something important to talk about. Today we are faced with an important issue, one that continually plagues our social interactions and skews our ability to be comfortable with ourselves and others.
You know that queasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your shifty eyes darting back and forth. Your constant collar-pulling.
I'm talking, of course, about awkwardness.
Originally defined by the Greeks as "awkwardopolis," it literally translates to "Thousands of years after our society fades, people will make a terrible movie about us called '300.'"
Often categorized as not quite embarrassment but a little more than confusion, awkwardness has, since its inception, manifested itself in myriad forms.
You may recognize it as watching "There's Something About Mary" with your mom, having an unfounded crush on Denis Leary or maybe having someone tell you they're super stoked to try the new Hip Hop Abs workout.
Perhaps you've felt it when extolling your brilliant views of a museum's exhibit of abstract art, and then realizing that you wandered into the bathroom and were talking about the toilet. Or on the flipside, when you've used a museum's toilet and then realized it was part of the display.
You've probably experienced it while admitting that although you own the complete set of Wes Anderson Criterion Collection DVDs, you also own the Amanda Bynes' classic "She's the Man."
And that you watch it on a weekly basis.
Maybe you've felt awkward when people notice you carry around a harmonica at all times when you don't play. This feeling probably escalates when you hold up an entire line at airport security after they find the harmonica in your carry-on and think you're using it to smuggle cocaine.
Possibly the most awkward you've ever felt came when listening to a stranger tell you this joke:
Stranger: Knock knock.
You: Who's there?
Stranger: I KILLED YOUR WIFE!
As a self-proclaimed normal human being, I experience awkwardness on a daily basis. While my actions are usually the catalyst, there are times when I have awkwardness thrust upon me. One such occasion happened at Walgreen's when I tried to buy a pen.
I have a definite addiction to purchasing writing utensils. Needing a fix, I hurried to the aisle housing office supplies, where I normally spend an inappropriate amount of time selecting the perfect pen.
An odd fascination, yes, but it usually works in my favor as other pen shoppers quickly grab the first one they see, glare at me and then walk away. But this time, however, there was another inkophile in my way.
It was like looking in a mirror, except my reflection bore the visage of a portly, balding man wearing a Day-Glo windbreaker and beat up loafers. I waited patiently for him to select his pen and move along, as we stood next to each other, carefully anticipating the other's next move.
Now, I would rather drink Miller High Life Light than allow myself to walk out with a substandard writing implement, which meant this man and I had declared a tacit war against each other. There wasn't room in this aisle for both of us, so with our shoulders almost touching, I stood my ground.
Then I looked at myself. Abandoning my malice, it became apparent that I was smack dab in the middle of an unpleasant social situation. 'Umm...' I thought to myself. 'This is awkward.'
It was, in fact, almost as awkward as that time I overheard someone claim that Guns N' Roses originally sang "Knocking on Heavens Door." I mean, come on. Everyone knows that it was actually White Snake. And the Papa Roach cover is way better, anyway.
Reach the reporter at: heather.hull@asu.edu