Awkward Social Situations

The line at the coffee shop was particularly slow. I'd long ago chosen the food I'd be purchasing, and was deep in thought about which I'd enjoy more: the raspberry danish or the curiously named "Peanut Butter Blonde" (a peanut butter square with chocolate chips. Where's the blonde?). A woman pushed her way through the line, presumably to reach the restroom across the restaurant.

"Excuse me!" An unidentifiably aged (25-50, if I must guess) man behind me said gruffly under his breath. I looked toward him, surprised. Was he talking to me?

"Damn women. Think they can just push anyone around just because they are beautiful. Not even an excuse me!" I looked back over to the woman, thinking perhaps she had malicious intent in pushing through the line: had she simply cut to the front of the line? No. As expected, she was making her way into the restroom.

"Do you think that's what it was?" I asked non-confrontationally, hoping that perhaps he had mistaken the intent and motivation of her restroom rush.

"I know that's what it was," he forcefully asserted.

And now I was stuck. I wanted the conversation to end, but I didn't want to be rude. I wasn't going anywhere - it's not like I could act like I had something else to do while I waited in line, and I didn't have any escape options that would guarantee I left with my good mood and my pastries.

"Well, what can you do?" I said awkwardly, after a slight pause. I even hunched my shoulders and showed him the palms of my hands, visual cues that I felt would further solidify my resignation to the problem of beautiful women who rushed to the bathroom without saying excuse me.

"Bitch about it, that's what I'm going to do." He looked at me, hoping for some kind of approval or validation. Meanwhile, I felt even further trapped. I was next in line; I looked to the cashiers eagerly, hoping one might catch and correctly interpret my desperate glance and call me over preemptively, rescuing from an awkward conversation that was becoming more and more uncomfortable. No such luck.

Is this really the kind of thing people talk about in lines? I felt a bit socially inept. Maybe it was normal to use situations like this to strike up a conversation. That didn't really matter to me...I didn't want to talk to this man. So I didn't. We sat there in awkward silence for minutes that seemed to be an eternity. Ah well, at least I got my pastries. I liked the Peanut Butter Blonde better, though I still don't understand it's lexical origins.