[muse]

I had meant to post this before I left for the Walk to Emmaus on Thursday.  I didn’t get a chance to.  Enjoy.

I’m sitting here in the laundromat, waiting for my clothes to finish drying, a near-constant task since my own dryer gave out a couple of months ago.  It makes me wonder how much I’ve spent at this laundromat.  Anyway, so I’m going to be out of commission for a few days, headed to the Golden Isles Walk to Emmaus.  I’m kinda excited, kinda dreading it.  Excited because it’s a weekend away from cellphones and crap like that, but not excited because I’ve got the sinking feeling that it’s gonna turn out to be cheesy.  I know, I know, I’m a terrible person for judging something before I do it, but I mean, come on.  It’s not like the Church has this great plethora of non-cheesy bag of tricks to pull from.  I swear to God if this turns out like that time in youth group where they told us to write the names of people we don’t like on a poster board and throw darts at them, only to find a picture of Jesus underneath…I’m leaving.

I’m having a bit of an awkward feeling, too, because earlier, I was talking to the people who are taking me to Emmaus (it’s a tradition to have others drive you to the place, which just strikes me as awkward) and I ventured into what might be called awkward territory.  Okay, so I was talking to these people and I asked them if I should eat beforehand because we meet at the thing at 6:30, which is kinda late to be fed and watered, and they were like “yeah, you should eat.”  Me, being the friendly guy that I am, was all like “Well, how about we meet early and I can take you guys out to dinner.”

I immediately had an incredibly awkward feeling.  These guys are a good forty years older than me…easy.  They’ve been believers for longer than I’ve been alive, and I just begin to think “Boy, I hope they didn’t take that the wrong way.”

The lady just chuckled a little and said “You’re so funny.”

Umm.  Okay.  Awkwardness level increased.

“Well,” I said, initiation my patented ‘foot in mouth’ syndrome, “we never get to spend any time together and I’d like to get to know you guys.  I’d be happy to buy you dinner.”

“No, no, no,” she laughed, “let me ask my husband.”

About two minutes of awkwardness.  I really meant that I would take them out to dinner.  Did they think I was gunning for them to take me out?  Because it was beginning to feel that way.

“We’ll pick you up at five-fifteen,” she said, “how’s that?”

Awkward.

“That’s fine,” I said, “I’ll look forward to it.”

“Us as well,” she said.

We said our goodbyes and I feel more awkward now a few hours later than I did then.  Wonderful.  God, I hope they don’t want to go inside my house when they come.  It’s a hot mess right now.  A big one.  A very large hot mess.

So…meditate on the awkwardness of that situation and tell me if I’m overreacting, because I’m feeling the overwhelming need to apologize to someone and I’m not quite sure who to apologize to.

-Ben