I can never understand why people complain or make jokes about self check outs.
I find buying something from someone face to face so socially excruciatingly painful, I can't wait for it to end.
My contactless card payment method makes my escape at least a little quicker. If it's cash then I'm fucked.
Eye contact is my kriptonite. It's even worse if she's fit.
I prefer fat/old people serving me at sainsburys...if they have to.
In more reference to the OP, Me and a fellow employee had a brief chat when we both had nothing to do.
My work place is rather big and there are many canteens.
An annoying coincidence at lunch when it turned out we accidentally sat opposite each other but both just desperately wanted to be alone for a bit to relax and eat our food in peace. Eye contact...oh no. The confirmation of "you again"
I took charge and did us both a favour by getting my phone out, stared at the screen and started frowning, as though there was something intensely worrying and I needed to concentrate on reading something and cannot be disturbed.
We haven't spoken since...and at work he's my only friend.
making eye contact with anyone accidently especially if the person in question is fit. I end up trying to look away but my head reacts quicker than my eyes so I end up making a tourette's like twitch.
trying to move to the side of someone on the street when you are both walking towards each other. they do the same so you move to the other side for them but again they do the same. it ends up being some sort strange game of chess or if its a girl a weird courtship dance. on a busy pavement it can halt all the pedestrians while the two of you negotiate round each other.
When I was younger, it was my first day of a new job doing shift work. I introduced myself to all the staff on shift that day and shook their hands to say hello for the first time. I met one of the workers, Tom and shook his hand. The next day I met him again but had forgotten (as I’d met quite a few people) and shook his hand for the second time. The third time I met him he went to give me a set of keys as he was finishing shift and I had just started - I thought he was going in to shake my hand so must be someone I hadn’t met before and shook his hand yet again.
From then on he thought I was some sort of weird ‘hand-shaking new bloke’ and I ended up having to shake his hand every time we met until he left ten months later. I wouldn’t shake any other member of staff’s hand, just Tom’s, every time I saw him.
It looked like we were in the masons or something.
I locked eyes for way too long with a bloke in the khazi at platform 5 at the old London Bridge station.
I walked in to be confronted by him having a shit with the door wide open - and seemingly without a care in the world.
Also when a mate and I were going to NY we endured a very bumpy landing. When we were finally on the ground I realised that we were holding hands......to this day he doesn’t acknowledge that it happened
I got into a lift in one of those smart Docklands buildings and was joined by some bloke who proceeded to drop his guts and alight at the next floor.
At the next stop two beautiful girls were waiting. They got in and there I was, on my own with a smell like a decomposing rat in a sewer. My mind was in turmoil, I wanted to explain, but reckoned it would make everything worse. There was nothing I could say ... nothing ...
Several years ago I organised a large event at work with an American colleague.
In the speeches at the end we were thanked heartily for our efforts by the CEO.
We both obviously sensed simultaneously at the point of this praise that we should congratulate each other. Trouble was my colleague went for the full US high five whilst I had merely offered up a UK handshake. Realising the cultural impasse we both then switched so by now I'm trying to high five his amended handshake.
It all ended in a mess much to the amusement of the 200+ audience of bored banking folk.
I got into a lift in one of those smart Docklands buildings and was joined by some bloke who proceeded to drop his guts and alight at the next floor.
At the next stop two beautiful girls were waiting. They got in and there I was, on my own with a smell like a decomposing rat in a sewer. My mind was in turmoil, I wanted to explain, but reckoned it would make everything worse. There was nothing I could say ... nothing ...
Just walked out of the only trap on the second floor of our office building having dispensed with last night's home made curry. As I took one pace away from the door, a bloke who I assume is from downstairs walked in (never seen him before) and has walked straight into the trap with clear knowledge that I've just been in there. As we passed, with him to my right and me knowing he was about to enter the shit fest within, I 'alright mate' him to which he says nothing (rude bastard).
I immediately felt uncomfortable knowing he was prepared to enter the trap straight after me. If it was me in his position, I would have taken a swift swerve to the right and stood at the urinal pretending to piss, at least until he had left the confines of the toilet.
Now I've sat down at my desk, I've decided he's weird and I don't like him.
The early morning shitters parade at any airport or service station world-wide, anxious men standing head down intently staring at the floor as they wait their turn to join the frog-chorus cacophony of anuses opening and unleashing hell in the cubicles.
The same people are not happy as the trap they have allotted to themselves is cleared by a massive bearded stinking lorry driver who has left the seat unpleasantly warm for you and also left his mark in the form of an obnoxious dirty protest down the pan of adhesive faecal matter and a noxious cloud that can only lead me, I mean, the people in line, to assume he eats glue when he's not eating peanuts and slime.
One morning during the rush hour, I was coming up the steps (the Harrods exit) out of the Knightsbridge tube station when I heard a noise and saw something land at my feet. I stopped amid the usual chaos and saw that there was a complete set of false teeth at my feet. When I looked up to see where they had come from there was a fellow with one leg and on crutches coming down the steps. He had sneezed and his teeth had come flying out and he was just looking at me imploring me for help as he was unable to bend down himself to pick them up. Quite a few people had now stopped because of the obstruction, and all were looking at me to see what I would do. I duly picked up the poor man's teeth and handed them back to him, and we both shrank back into the morning mayhem.
One morning during the rush hour, I was coming up the steps (the Harrods exit) out of the Knightsbridge tube station when I heard a noise and saw something land at my feet. I stopped amid the usual chaos and saw that there was a complete set of false teeth at my feet. When I looked up to see where they had come from they was a fellow with one leg and on crutches coming down the steps. He had sneezed and his teeth had come flying out and he was just looking at me imploring me for help as he was unable to bend down himself to pick them up. Quite a few people had now stopped because of the obstruction, and all were looking at me to see what I would do. I duly picked up the poor man's teeth and handed them back to him, and we both shrank back into the morning mayhem.
One morning during the rush hour, I was coming up the steps (the Harrods exit) out of the Knightsbridge tube station when I heard a noise and saw something land at my feet. I stopped amid the usual chaos and saw that there was a complete set of false teeth at my feet. When I looked up to see where they had come from there was a fellow with one leg and on crutches coming down the steps. He had sneezed and his teeth had come flying out and he was just looking at me imploring me for help as he was unable to bend down himself to pick them up. Quite a few people had now stopped because of the obstruction, and all were looking at me to see what I would do. I duly picked up the poor man's teeth and handed them back to him, and we both shrank back into the morning mayhem.
I know this is not awkward behaviour, but it’s train awkwardness related.
Once got told a story by my ex's cousin. She was stunning and always got chatted up on the train to work, she said it was a nightmare.
There was this one chap that stared at her awkwardly every morning, she could see him moving closer each day and he was plucking up the courage gradually.
Well anyway one morning when she arrived at London Bridge he made a beeline for her as she left the station, she knew he was finally going to ask for her number. She had her head down and was walking hurriedly over London bridge, this was the point someone shouted “stop, he’s stealing her purse”. When she turned round this bloke had his hand in her bag, at this point he just legged it and started running past her over the bridge.
What followed was a man rugby tackling this poor lad to the floor to stop him. When the cousin looked in her bag there was a note simply saying “Hi my name is Adam, this is my number ….I would love to take you for a drink sometime”
She changed the train she got to work from that point.
I know this is not awkward behaviour, but it’s train awkwardness related.
Once got told a story by my ex's cousin. She was stunning and always got chatted up on the train to work, she said it was a nightmare.
There was this one chap that stared at her awkwardly every morning, she could see him moving closer each day and he was plucking up the courage gradually.
Well anyway one morning when she arrived at London Bridge he made a beeline for her as she left the station, she knew he was finally going to ask for her number. She had her head down and was walking hurriedly over London bridge, this was the point someone shouted “stop, he’s stealing her purse”. When she turned round this bloke had his hand in her bag, at this point he just legged it and started running past her over the bridge.
What followed was a man rugby tackling this poor lad to the floor to stop him. When the cousin looked in her bag there was a note simply saying “Hi my name is Adam, this is my number ….I would love to take you for a drink sometime”
She changed the train she got to work from that point.
Ha brilliant! Did she ever call you for that drink Ad?
Was in the pub with one of my best mates, who always thought of himself as a bit of a ladies man. This really attractive girl and her boyfriend were sitting opposite us. My mate tells me she keeps on looking at him and smiling flirtingly. I tell him he’s full of crap and instantly want to take the statement back as she gets up and walks over to him with this gorgeous smile. She then says “ I hope you don’t mind me telling you this, (at which point I’m thinking you jammy bastard) but you’ve got two clothes pegs sticking out the shoulders if your shirt. Him crestfallen, me falling around laughing
I used to suffer terribly from this self consciousness / second guessing what other people are thinking. Two things I use now: "what other people think (of you) is none of your business" and that people are usually too busy thinking about themselves to worry about you and what you think.
Comments
I find buying something from someone face to face so socially excruciatingly painful, I can't wait for it to end.
My contactless card payment method makes my escape at least a little quicker. If it's cash then I'm fucked.
Eye contact is my kriptonite. It's even worse if she's fit.
I prefer fat/old people serving me at sainsburys...if they have to.
In more reference to the OP, Me and a fellow employee had a brief chat when we both had nothing to do.
My work place is rather big and there are many canteens.
An annoying coincidence at lunch when it turned out we accidentally sat opposite each other but both just desperately wanted to be alone for a bit to relax and eat our food in peace. Eye contact...oh no. The confirmation of "you again"
I took charge and did us both a favour by getting my phone out, stared at the screen and started frowning, as though there was something intensely worrying and I needed to concentrate on reading something and cannot be disturbed.
We haven't spoken since...and at work he's my only friend.
trying to move to the side of someone on the street when you are both walking towards each other. they do the same so you move to the other side for them but again they do the same. it ends up being some sort strange game of chess or if its a girl a weird courtship dance. on a busy pavement it can halt all the pedestrians while the two of you negotiate round each other.
When I was younger, it was my first day of a new job doing shift work. I introduced myself to all the staff on shift that day and shook their hands to say hello for the first time. I met one of the workers, Tom and shook his hand. The next day I met him again but had forgotten (as I’d met quite a few people) and shook his hand for the second time. The third time I met him he went to give me a set of keys as he was finishing shift and I had just started - I thought he was going in to shake my hand so must be someone I hadn’t met before and shook his hand yet again.
From then on he thought I was some sort of weird ‘hand-shaking new bloke’ and I ended up having to shake his hand every time we met until he left ten months later. I wouldn’t shake any other member of staff’s hand, just Tom’s, every time I saw him.
It looked like we were in the masons or something.
I walked in to be confronted by him having a shit with the door wide open - and seemingly without a care in the world.
Also when a mate and I were going to NY we endured a very bumpy landing. When we were finally on the ground I realised that we were holding hands......to this day he doesn’t acknowledge that it happened
At the next stop two beautiful girls were waiting. They got in and there I was, on my own with a smell like a decomposing rat in a sewer. My mind was in turmoil, I wanted to explain, but reckoned it would make everything worse. There was nothing I could say ... nothing ...
That has never happened to me, I have just seen it happen too many times with frustrated pervy geezers getting caught out.
In the speeches at the end we were thanked heartily for our efforts by the CEO.
We both obviously sensed simultaneously at the point of this praise that we should congratulate each other. Trouble was my colleague went for the full US high five whilst I had merely offered up a UK handshake. Realising the cultural impasse we both then switched so by now I'm trying to high five his amended handshake.
It all ended in a mess much to the amusement of the 200+ audience of bored banking folk.
That's Otto's game tampering with a message.
And like Otto, it was not funny either!
I immediately felt uncomfortable knowing he was prepared to enter the trap straight after me. If it was me in his position, I would have taken a swift swerve to the right and stood at the urinal pretending to piss, at least until he had left the confines of the toilet.
Now I've sat down at my desk, I've decided he's weird and I don't like him.
The same people are not happy as the trap they have allotted to themselves is cleared by a massive bearded stinking lorry driver who has left the seat unpleasantly warm for you and also left his mark in the form of an obnoxious dirty protest down the pan of adhesive faecal matter and a noxious cloud that can only lead me, I mean, the people in line, to assume he eats glue when he's not eating peanuts and slime.
Painful
Once got told a story by my ex's cousin. She was stunning and always got chatted up on the train to work, she said it was a nightmare.
There was this one chap that stared at her awkwardly every morning, she could see him moving closer each day and he was plucking up the courage gradually.
Well anyway one morning when she arrived at London Bridge he made a beeline for her as she left the station, she knew he was finally going to ask for her number. She had her head down and was walking hurriedly over London bridge, this was the point someone shouted “stop, he’s stealing her purse”. When she turned round this bloke had his hand in her bag, at this point he just legged it and started running past her over the bridge.
What followed was a man rugby tackling this poor lad to the floor to stop him. When the cousin looked in her bag there was a note simply saying “Hi my name is Adam, this is my number ….I would love to take you for a drink sometime”
She changed the train she got to work from that point.