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Jodie Sweetin is the New Macaulay Culkin

Fade to Awkward: A Tableau

Sometimes when I get in the elevator with someone I don't know and we both just stare at the door, the silence seems really awkward.  I always wonder if I should say something. 

Today I learned what a horrible idea that is.  To be fair, I didn't start this conversation, but surely I could have done something to keep it from being so stupefyingly insipid:

Man: I just hate this cold weather.
Me: Yeah! It hasn't even been that bad this winter, but I still can't wait until the spring.
Man: Me either.
Me: The wet days are the worst of all.
Man: Yeah.
[Pause]
{Without irony]
Unless you're a duck.
Me: What? Oh. Yeah.
[Pause]
Well, I'm . . . not . . . a duck.
Man: Too bad.

[What? Too bad? Too bad I'm not a duck?  I'm not agreeing with that.  That would be ridiculous.  I'm not disagreeing with it either, though.  That would take more than the three seconds left of this elevator trip, and then there would be an even more awkward situation when my explanation of why I didn't want to be a duck got interrupted by the door opening, and then I had to finish up my thought really quickly as I got out, like ". . . . andsometimespeoplespitinyourpondinsteadofthrowingbreadandthat'sgross."]

[Three seconds of supremely awkward silence follow.]

[The elevator arrives at my floor and I limp out, crippled by the magnitude of the awkwardness I have just taken part in.]

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