Wait what. So you were drinking beer?

I guess I can’t wear my favourite jeans to my first day of school tomorrow. You may be wondering, why not? Well. Because I spilled beer over them yesterday. Wait what. So you were drinking beer? Perhaps that’s not that what you’re thinking. You don’t know me after all. I’ll help you out a little. I’m about as ‘good’ as one can be. And so are my friends

I wasn’t drinking beer. But yet I spilled beer. Odd, right? I definitely think so. The entire situation felt odd to me.

I was at a barbecue. Not because I wanted to, but because my mother told me we had to go. We apparently need to know who our neighbours are. I kind of agree. So, there I was, at this wonderful barbecue with people whom I barely knew. I recognised some of them, and I knew the names of others, but I had never really properly spoken to the people who live in the houses near me (we apparently call those people ‘neighbours’).

In the beginning, I tried to get through the night by ‘not-talking-much-but-eating-the-good-food’. It tends to be a great strategy. And then this random dude starts talking to our little group. You know, those awkward little circles that people form? And then all of the sudden he says, why don’t we sit down. And I’m like: ‘Sure, why not’, thinking that we would sit down. Not just Jason (his fake name) and I, which actually happened.

He turned out to be good company. After we talked for a bit, some of his friends joined us:  one somewhat drunk girl and another drinking girl (I don’t think she was drunk though). When I told them I had never drunk anything, the drinking girl offered me her drink. Funnily, the drunk girl told me I shouldn’t drink it. But I did. I really was interested. Don’t worry though, I took the tiniest sip in the world. Yes, I’m exaggerating, but you get my point, right?

But what does this have to do with me spilling beer over my pants??? I’ll get to my point. Just you wait. 

Jason then told me I should try to open his beer. And that, people, is how I got beer all over my pants, without drinking any beer. After that awkward moment, and more talking, the girls left (and some random other guy who joined us).

I actually had a great night, talking to this guy, who I had never talked to before. We just sat there and talked for hours. About what he studied, what I wanted to study, what he wanted to do with his life, and muuuuch more. We talked to the point where I got cold. Which is why I left.

Isn’t it strange, that I had never thought of him as a potential person to have a conversation with?It makes me wonder why many of us, including myself, find it very scary to talk to strangers. Shouldn’t we think of the people we don’t know as potential friends or just people to talk to?

I felt so good afterwards. I hope I find the courage to talk to more people.

A Young Mademoiselle

PS This isn’t a romantic story, in case you’re wondering.

PPS I wrote this a couple of weeks ago, school has already started by now :).

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