Marshmellow Fluff

I am not a hugger, and when I try to be it always ends poorly.  Last week I tried to be a hugger.  I made a vow that I would hug every person I ran into that day, and by 9 am, I had hug raped three people who clearly only wanted a handshake.  Physical contact with strangers and acquaintances feels strange to me.  When the whole “make out with your girlfriends” phenomenon hit, I was thankfully years past high school and college so I was never faced with that dilemma.  I could only imagine the backlash from my girlfriends when my personal contact boundaries wouldn’t allow me to drunk make out with them in the Del Taco parking lot, after the varsity football game.  I like people, and I consider myself approachable, but I may be wrong in my self-assessment because, on many occasions people will hug the person standing next to me and then offer me a handshake.  I want to be more approachable, I want to consciously change from a relaxed bitch-face to a friendly face that naturally smiles when relaxed.  All I am saying is it is a process.

For one, physical contact is difficult because I lack a lot in the grace and coordination department, which makes things like the air-cheek kissing move, totally out of my league.  I never know which cheek to go for.  Industry standard is to start on the right cheek (I know this because Google said it was so), but this proves difficult because I am left-handed and always default to my left.  Typically this means cheek kissing is a mess,  I look awkward while doing it, and it makes me all nervous and pit sweaty because I am overly aware of my inability to do it gracefully.

Yesterday I went on a work lunch with a guy who many in the office find attractive.  I find him to be too coiffed.  I prefer men scruffy and rugged not freshly shaved with a sweater vest.  As we were saying goodbye he went in for a hug, which made my outstretched hand seem clumsy.  Mid-stretch I opened my arms up for a hug, because clearly that is what we were doing, and then, when I fell into the warm awkward embrace that only an acquaintance hug can bring, he did it.  He went in for the cheek kiss!  And this is when I panicked internally and an already awkward situation became even more so.  He switched our hug to a full on acquaintance greeting with no forewarning.  When I saw him a few weeks prior, he shook my hand.  Isn’t the next socially acceptable “base” an awkward hug?  Isn’t is a faux-pa to completely skip second base and run right to third?  I was barely comfortable making it to first base and now, without warning, sweater-vest wanted me to slide into third!  Clearly the only rational thing to do was to panic which meant as he went in to kiss my cheek, I defaulted left…which meant I kind of made out with him.

Later, while driving home I was trying to figure out how to break the news that I cheated on Paul in what should of been a completely benign social ritual.