Awkward [Jargot]

My Awkward Life

Hi. My name's Jared, for the record, my life sucks.  I mean, kind of. I'm in a band, though we haven't picked up much fame-yet-and I also am an actor. I'm 30 years old, and I can't seem to get a girlfriend.  Sure, I'm a decent looking human being.  But the thing is, I'm too socially awkward and weird to capture a woman's attention. Maybe someday a light will switch on and I'll become Mr. Popular, but until that happens, I'm stuck in this universe as the guy who will go down in history as a loser. You see, my mother keeps nagging me to settle down with a nice woman. Don't get me wrong, my mom is a wonderful lady, but she wants the best for me and would like to have a daughter-in-law someday. My brother has no hope for me at all.  He's convinced that I'll be alone forever because I'm not a smooth talker and can't land a date like he can. Actually, that's a lie.  I've gone on plenty of dates.  First dates. It's the second date that gets me every time.  Let me allow you to take a look at a sliver of my life. Let's go back to last week where I took this super hot chick named Margot out to a café in Los Angeles.

"Jared, right?" an attractive blonde asks, tapping my shoulder gently.   We matched on Tinder a week ago and I finally mustered up the amount of self-esteem I had left from my previous date, for the record, it is about .00849521%.   An all time high!

"Yeah, that's me!  You look even better in person!"  I blurt out, earning a soft smile from her. She bites her lip and looks down at the floor.   Okay, don't say it back, fine, whatever.   Not like I care, pfft. 

"Anyway, this seat for me?"

"No, it's for the date I have coming to meet me in an hour," I say in a joking manner.   Why do I say these things?   What is wrong with me? No one gets my humor. Half of the time, even I do not understand it. 

"Um," she gives me a strange look, and I follow up with an even weirder one.   Help me.

"Sorry, I was just kidding," I clarify, hoping to relieve some of the tension in the atmosphere. I offer her a half smile, which gets her to crack a grin. 

"It's fine, don't worry about it.  You're really cute," she says with a smile. 

Did she just call me cute? Cute. Is that a good or a bad thing? It's gotta be good, right?   What's the definition of cute again? Let's look that one up, brain!  Hmm, 'pretty in an attractive or endearing way.'  Woah, maybe she's insulting me, I'm not pretty, I'm handsome! Or am I? Or maybe she meant endearing, which wouldn't be bad. Aw, man, I look stupid right now, don't I?  Nah, you're cute!  I'm cute?

"Hello?" she waves her hand in front of my face, waking me from my trance. Rats.

"Hi, um, sorry.  What did you say?" I stumble on my words, hoping she won't pick up on it. She lets out a small laugh, lighting up her beautiful face. She pushes a golden curl from her hair behind her shoulder as she parts her lips to respond.

"I said, you're in a band, right?" 

"Yes!  It's just my brother, my friend Tomo, and I. We play here every Friday evening at seven," I'm shocked that I can actually spit out a full sentence without making a complete fool of myself.

"Oh, cool!  I'd love to come hear you guys some time," she says happily, "what kind of music do you play?"

Somebody pinch me, a female on this planet is interested in something that I like. I can die happily now.