The Awkward Singers

This is for all you people out there who have had the same uncomfortable experience.

It starts out at a group gathering of sorts. People mingle with acquaintances, chattering in small groups. Everything is socially under control until...it happens.

Someone decides that right then, in the middle of a group conversation, that it would be the perfect time to show off their singing voice. Their less-than-pleasurable-and-superfluous-use-of-vibrato voice.

They don't actually know the words to any songs except hymns, or Christmas Carols so they pick one like, "Oh, Come All Ye Faithful". (As was in my case.)

Everyone does the smart thing and simply ignores the situation and keeps on talking. Everyone except for you, of course. You see, you feel bad for this person so you decide to humor them for a moment, not realizing you've just made a grave mistake.

You suddenly find yourself making eye-contact with the singer who takes your acknowledgement as a sign of appreciation. They think, "She must think I am impressive, and therefore I must keep singing! Louder!"

Next thing you know you're getting a personal concert from the singer who will not give you a break from their bubble breaching eye contact. Except of course, when they close their eyes for dramatic effect.

You begin to sweat.

Expecting your friends to notice and save you from the situation you dart your eyes around in a desperate search for freedom. To your horror you notice your group has actually disassembled, leaving you there as a sacrifice for the rest of them to enjoy themselves in social competency.

It is here that you must decide between the lesser of two evils. "Do I let them continue to sing, or do I interject with a comment (not compliment) on their singing abilities only to lead them to a five minute discussion on how they sang that song as a townsperson their high school play?"

There is no correct answer. There is only perseverance and pain.

The Fat Lady

I'm irked.

Maybe it's because I just finished the Hunger Games series and everyone knows finishing a series leads to a temporary depression, but still...

I'm irked at the fat lady!

Every day around noon you can find me sitting on the benches of the side hallway of the HRCB building. I eat lunch there, do homework, waste myself on Pinterest. But occasionally I get really tired. Could it be because I'm in college and stay up late working and wake up early for classes? Likely. Could it be that I stay up late reading books about 16 year-old-girls attempting to overthrow her government? Also likely.

Either way, I'm tired and shouldn't have to have an excuse, just like the rest of the people whom I see sleeping around campus in all sorts of corners and crevasses of the school all the time. In that very building actually. So, like I've done in the past, I lay down on a bench (in a low traffic area, mind you) with my backpack for a pillow and respectfully letting my feet dangle off the end so my shoes don't get the bench dirty.

Then, it happened...

Just as I get to that delighful stage where you're still awake but starting to dream, I hear,

"EXCUSE ME"

Being sleepy makes you extra sensitive to sound, so with this remark I make a jolt with shock and see...the fat lady.
(Side Note: Maybe it's just me, but if someone does something offensive to me, if they're fat I am ever more inclined to dislike them. Besides being rude, they lost 50 points when they gained 50 pounds.)

She continues,

"Don't lay on the benches, okay?"

Before I've even realized what's going on she walks away.

Naturally, I'm irrationally bitter towards the whole building pack up my stuff to leave, the whole while thinking:

"Lay on a bench? LAY on a bench? Heck lady! No sleeping would have made more sense, but lay? Is there some kind of social rule against laying on benches? Have I offended someone? If I'm just out of the social bench loop let me know but do NOT tell me I can't lay on a bench and then walk away! Geez."

Word of advise to you ma'am,
"Don't let your fat roll off your chair, okay?"


Second, what authority did she have to tell me not to sleep there. Sheesh, I'm offended at myself having just read about a girl who killed people because they told her what to do and I sheepishly obeyed the fat without question. Maybe tomorrrow I'll walk into the HRCB, find her, grab her by her creme puff shoulders and say, "WHY?! WHY?! Why can I not "lay" on the bench? Is it because you care about the image of the Kennedy Center? Because if it is, I think a great deal more improvement would be made if you got struck with the stomach flu for the next three months!"

So the moral of this rant is, next time you try to sleep on a public bench, think twice. Some fat lady may come tell you you're not allowed.