Tuesday, May 5, 2015

Never Ask Your Awkward Friend to be Sneaky

Hello my dear friends!

It is good to be back. After taking a wonderful year-and-a-half break from writing, blogging, surfing the internet, and doing a lot of other time wasting activities and preaching the good word of God instead, I am back and excited to post many awkward moments once again.

As I'm sure most of you know, I just returned from serving a religious mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, otherwise known as "Mormons." (Carmen, what on earth do you mean "a religious mission"?)

You are going to hear a lot about my mission on this blog. Why? Well, it was a huge part of my life. An amazing part of my life.
And an incredibly awkward moment of my life.
So. Incredibly. Awkward.

But, that's for the next few posts.

Today's post is takes place during. . .

High School.

Ah, the infamous high school. I loved it. I really did!
But I sure don't ever want to do that again.

Middle School and High School are just infamously awful and awkward years. Full of bad haircuts, braces, embarrassing romances, acne, cliques, and terrible clothes that you think are "in style" that you later look back on and wonder why you wore that.
. . .yes, I may have experienced most of those. . .
Many people hate it in the moment, or hate looking back at it.
I find myself leaning back in my chair, putting my hands behind my head and thinking, "Aaah I was a stupid teenager, wasn't I?"

So let's jump right to this event, shall we?

I was a Junior in High School. This year, I Had hair down to my butt that I was scared to cut after getting a TERRIBLE hair cut in the eighth grade, and bangs that were FAR too long, so they just drooped awkwardly around my face. I also believed that wearing brightly colored socks with flat shoes, and worn out jeans that I had had for way too many years and were obviously worn out somehow looked good on me.

It didn't.

Despite my incredibly cringe-worth appearance which no doubt played a part in me having close to zero dating experiences in high school, I always had a good group of friends in high school that I could turn to. This year, there were three girls who I was really close to. We did everything together, told each other everything, and were best friends.

Unfortunately, I didn't share lunch with these three girls my junior year. Two of them had science class together, and the other one also had class during this time. These days I don't remember WHO I sat by (though I do know my senior year I ate lunch with my history teacher. No joke.) but I always managed to somehow keep myself busy and not lonely during our 45-minute lunch.

This particular day, I received a text message from one of these friends in the science class.

"We need you to do a huge favor." she said, "Are you at lunch?"
"Yeah. What's up?" I responded.
"We have a group PowerPoint presentation today. We were supposed to print off a hard copy of the PowerPoint for our teacher, but we completely forgot that it was due today. I emailed the PowerPoint to myself. Can you go to the computer lab and print off a copy?"
"Yeah, sure! How do I get it to you guys?"
"The classroom door is open," she explained, "just drop it right by the door, and we'll pretend to throw something in the trash, and pick it up."

She sent me the log-in info for her email, and with that, I headed to the computer lab.

Thankfully, there was one open computer. There was about fifteen minutes left of lunch, and I quickly scrambled to pull open her email and print off the PowerPoint.

Success! The PowerPoint was printed. I got up, made sure all the slides had printed, logged off of the computer, and was on my way to their classroom.

When I arrived, sure enough, the classroom door was open. The lights were off as other groups stood to give their presentation, their PowerPoint projected for all to see at the front of the classroom. . .
right by the door.

I walked by once very slowly, and not so discreetly. I made eye contact with my two friends who sat in the front two seats by the door. They saw me.
I walked a little past the classroom, then turned around, and walked passed the classroom a second time. I also not-so-subtly dropped the hard copy of the PowerPoint on the floor in the middle of the hallway.
I smiled triumphantly at my friends, expecting their approval, only to see their eyes wide while they quickly shook their heads "no."

"What is it?" I loudly whispered.

"Move it closer to the door!" they mouthed back.

". . .What?!"

"Move it closer to the door!" they said in a whisper.

I scooted a little closer to the door and mouthed, "What?!"

"Move. It. Closer. To. The. Door!" they whispered desperately.

"OOOOH!"

Quickly, I trotted back to the middle of the hall and picked up the PowerPoint. I turned around and walked towards the door, PowerPoint in hand. . .
Right as the science teacher walked up to close the door.

Now, I would always walk these two friends to this class and talk to them until this teacher would kick me out. So he knew me well.

I smiled uncomfortably as he stared at me.

"You okay?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yeah I'm, um, I'm good." I said, nervously playing with the PowerPoint in my hands.

Without another word, he closed the door, and I watched as my two friends stared, their eyes huge and horrified.

Quickly, I trotted back to the middle of the hall and picked up the PowerPoint. I turned around and walked towards the door, PowerPoint in hand. . .
Right as the science teacher walked up to close the door.

Now, I would always walk these two friends to this class and talk to them until this teacher would kick me out. So he knew me well.

I smiled uncomfortably as he stared at me.

"You okay?" he asked, annoyed.

"Yeah I'm, um, I'm good." I said, nervously playing with the PowerPoint in my hands.

Without another word, he closed the door, and I watched as my two friends stared, their eyes huge and horrified.

I got down on my knees and checked the bottom of the door. There wasn't a way I could slide it under to them. And even if I could, I wouldn't be able to do it without the teacher noticing.

I stood back up and looked through the window in the door. Once again, I made eye contact with my friends, and emphasized that I was dropping the PowerPoint on the ground. I sat it next to the door, and quickly ran off.
What was I running from? I'm not entirely sure.
Maybe I had an adrenaline rush.

Just after I had taken off, one of my friends in the science class came up with a brilliant way to retrieve the PowerPoint. She grabbed her pencil, and stood up and went towards the pencil sharpener, which sat next to the door. She sharpened her pencil, then cracked open the classroom door, bent down, swiped the PowerPoint off the floor, shut the door, and walked back to her seat, pencil and PowerPoint in hand.

This story has a happy ending. They gave their PowerPoint presentation, successfully gave the hard copy of the PowerPoint to their teacher, passed the class, and moved onto college where they are both now working towards science-related degrees.

And all because I gave them the hard copy of their PowerPoint.

Looking back, we've thought of a lot of "alternate endings" to this story.
They could've asked to use the bathroom, and they could've met me and gotten the PowerPoint from me.
I could've slid the PowerPoint across the floor to them.
Or I could've completely chucked it at them, which also could've made an equally hilarious story.

But what's done is done and cannot be undone. And it's small moments like these where I find myself leaning back in my chair, putting my hands behind my head and thinking, "Aaah I was a stupid teenager, wasn't I?"

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