The Friend Manual: How to make friends when you're bad at it

Also known as: the Saturday in which I ignore everything that I’ve written in this blog and try to force myself to do exactly the wrong thing and then feel bad about it…for the 8,000th time.

For your entertainment, I have put my my behavioral missteps and thought errors in all caps.

So, what happened?

A few weeks ago, I was bored, and I was determined to jumpstart my creativity again after a hiatus, so I decide I need to talk to art people. So, I IMPULSIVELY scroll through meetup looking for a good event to go to and sign up for multiple events and groups because BEING SOCIAL IS ALWAYS GOOD.

The first event that came up was a 50 person event with where anyone can show up at any time during the event and either work on projects or chat in a library room.

I spent the whole day of the event trying to talk myself out of cancelling because it didn’t align with my preference for small group activities with a clear purpose and (at least) an informal facilitator. But, I told myself THIS TIME WOULD BE DIFFERENT.

At the correct hour, I drove to the library feeling very unsettled about the whole thing. I couldn’t quite make myself go straight into the event, so I wandered around the library trying to buck up the courage, but the library was wrong and cramped.

When I’m nervous, I pace, so I kept walking in circles trying to get closer to the room where everyone was, like a space ship attempting to land. And even though I was obviously going to chicken out, I KEPT TRYING TO CONVINCE MYSELF TO GO IN.

The next part turns into a sort of monty python farce.

The library is two stories, with the book part on the top and the meeting rooms on the bottom. There’s a circular lobby with a dramatic circular staircase heading down, so as I am doing laps around this place, I am hyper visible and it’s all brick, stone, metal, and concrete, so the sound bounces.

There’s a dude in the lobby that obviously waiting for someone. I kept wandering in an out, looking into rooms and I know room 1 is the one, but I keep going past it, and go back upstairs and dude in the lobby is watching all the people wander in and out like a creeper. People keep filtering into room #1 to join the arts group. I finally get the right arc angle in my orbit to propel myself into the room and walk in. And someone smiles brightly and waves and says “hi” and I think “by golly I’ve done it” (because this is the 1920s).

And then happy, waving girl goes back to her conversation. And everyone is already in groups, and the giant tables are all arranged willy nilly and I would have to walk around awkwardly with my big winter jacket between people and go up and initiate a conversation with a group. The space itself doesn’t encourage movement, so if I pick a group of people I will obviously have to stay with them until the bitter end, regardless of whether we’re interested in each other. The lighting is fluorescent and harsh. The room is filled with chatter and ambient noise.

And, like a champ, I turn around 180 degrees and walk out, having said nothing (going past the guy in the lobby).

Now, this could have been the end of it.

But I am DETERMINED TO NOT FAIL TODAY.

So, I think “Ok, I’ll go see if I can get a cup of coffee at that place a few blocks away with the new coffee sign. This will help me calm down and rationally reenter the room and talk to people.” I walk the few blocks, with the sun shining and go to the coffee place, which turns out to be a packed brewery with concrete floors and the most unholy din imaginable. But, I PERSEVERE BECAUSE COFFEE = COMFORT. I wander in and see that the “coffee” is a tiny home version of an espresso machine backed into the corner and realize I must abort this mission, but I can’t just turn around and leave from the same door because I have ENTERED A BREWERY ALONE AND THAT’S SAD UNLES YOU HAVE A BEER. So I have to find another exit and the sound is pressing on my head (did I mention this is the first outing I take with my new hearing aids so everything is LOUD? – another tactical error).

So, I sneak through to the outdoor section and there’s a gap between the door and the outdoor tent and I hustle quickly through that with only the waitstaff noticing me acting like a crazy person. And then I have to walk back past the windows to go back to the road to go back to the library of shame.

Now, I am coffee-less, and still wandering the streets alone at 2pm on a Saturday on a road with no sidewalks, dodging cars and puddles. Now, is the time I should go straight to my car and drive home, right? Wrong.

I WILL NOT FAIL TODAY.

So I head back to the library, and as I am coming up to the building, I see outdoor stairs up to the second floor that go through a garden area to a bridge over to the library and I think “how relaxing, I’ll just head up over there and take a fun little jaunt and then come back down the rotunda stairs.” Anything to prolong the avoidance, right?

Well, the HVAC system on this stupid library sounds like a jet engine and has a wind tunnel to match. But I keep going because I’m curious, and once I’m in it, it’s hard to change direction. So I go up there, and the courtyard is depressing and I’m all jangly and I think THIS IS THE TIME TO GO TO THE EVENT. So I head inside, and down the rotunda stairs, and accelerate past the guy watching people and walk straight past the meeting room and out the doors and past the windows looking into the meeting room and head to my car and give up.

And for three weeks I don’t even try to leave my house to do anything social because I repeatedly stressed myself out for no good reason.

**On the bright side, after I left, I took out my hearing aids and stopped by a tea shop and hid in the corner, sipping a seasonal tea and talking to no one, in blissful silence.