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"Under the Table And Dreaming?"
posted January 22, 2008 @6:07p
 
"Why do I always do this?" I asked myself, as two sets of knee caps stared me in the eyes.

I'd never been to a baby shower before. In fact, I thought all showers were for girls and girls only. But I was invited. So I went. Sixteen females. Two males. One was the dad. The other - the grandfather.

That left me: the outcast-not-related-to-anybody-dude-that-was-invited-out-of-obligation.

That being said, the ratio didn't frighten me. There were plenty of snacks to keep me busy, and, since people usually don't know exactly how to take me, I'm not afraid to say most anything.

However, when all were called to the living room to begin the "games," I got a little nervous. But being the sharp character I am, I decided that by staying stationed at the buffet table in the kitchen, I'd be safe. I got a plate, got some snacks, and got comfortable. I was alone with food. Nice.

Just when I began to crunch on my third helping of wasabi-encrusted peas, I heard someone yell from the living room, "where's Jason?!"

I panicked. I didn't know what games were going to be played, and I didn't care; all I knew was that I didn't want to play the games, whatever they were.

It's not that I don't like to play games. No, games can be some great fun. But it was the nature of the "games" at a baby shower that I wanted to avoid. My assumption was that these games were designed for girls, and that by being a guy, I'd be getting way more attention than I wanted. Under circumstances under my control, I'm an attention hog.

Everybody - look at me!

But if the attention is being generated from something not of my choosing, I can't handle it. It makes me panic.

So, upon hearing the beginning of the Jason-search, panic is just what I did. Immediately, in one fluid motion, I dropped to my knees and slid under the buffet table.

"MAN I'm awesome," I thought as the first set of legs passed by the table, completely unsuspecting of my whereabouts. Besides - why would anybody expect a grown man to be hiding under a table? Brilliant. But after being on my hands and knees for a few minutes, that awesome feeling began to fade into pain. And when I started to imagine how exactly I'd exit my protected location, my opinion began to change.

"MAN I'm dumb."

How does one surrender that kind of hiding spot un-awkwardly? What could I say as I crawled from beneath the table, in the midst of all these females that don't know me at all?

I took the beanie off my head and placed it under my knees for support. Then I waited. And waited.

As I waited and deliberated over the explanation and apology I'd deliver when I crawled out, I thought about the influx of apologies I've received over the past few weeks. Some were pithy and half-hearted, others very heartfelt and real. It takes strength of character to admit a wrongdoing and ask for forgiveness.

But as those two sets of knee caps stared me in the eyes, I realized something: for some offenses, there is no good way to apologize; you just have to give it your best effort, and it has to be real.

 
 


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