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May 8, 2013

you're in an elevator.


I was waiting for an elevator after the author signing, clutching my book and still reeling in embarrassment, when a conversational young man stood next to me to wait too.  Both of us having been at the talk, he did as any conversational man would and struck one up.  He asked if I was a writer.

And me having lacked human interaction for a while (especially since my job requires me to work only through social media*), felt like my answer came out in a gush rather than a cool response of "Aspiring."

And I felt like a failure.

Mainly because, hell, what's stopping me from saying I am?  And, well, I sounded like a provincial miss!

Mustering up courage myself, I posed the question back at him, and he went on to talk about how he dabbles in music and writing, not sure which.  But I tried to talk about writing or what or what the author we just saw wrote, and I couldn't focus because I thought his coat was nice and I can't really hear well when I'm trying to think of something witty and impressive to say next.

I think I said something about at least he had feet.

What I meant was, at least he had something he was interested in.

But the elevator ride was short, and with a cheers (yes he said "cheers"), he left.

It almost seemed like he couldn't get out of there fast enough.

Oh well.  No new friend for me.


Feeling: aches. Listening: keyboard typing.