Do I know you? ‘tweeners lead to awkwardness

As a chipper freshman, I strolled around the campus with my head held high, seeking familiar… As a chipper freshman, I strolled around the campus with my head held high, seeking familiar faces, and wondered why everyone else walked with their heads down. Today, I know.

People are not hiding from the biting cold, as I first thought. No, they are hiding from what Hubie Brown would call ‘tweeners — people who are neither friends nor complete strangers.

Over our years here, we run in to hundreds of individuals. Some we meet drunk at parties, others half asleep in class and the remainder via other means, such as a shared passion for a good drag show or edible panties.

The problem is that we will never know the vast majority of these people on any personal level. We all have our group of friends and the acquaintance crowd, but they are all drowned out by the overwhelming masses of people we’ve only encountered once or twice. As we all live within just a few blocks, that, friends, makes for a tricky, tricky state of affairs.

Who hasn’t been in a situation where he didn’t remember a name or a face? Who hasn’t, from 50 yards away, seen a face he knows will produce an awkward moment as strides bring you closer? Who hasn’t said a disregarded hello or passed right by someone who greeted them? And then there’s always that super-uncomfortable eye contact when you’re waiting to see if your counterpart will acknowledge you so that you can make your decision.

I am notoriously bad with faces and names, and, in one instance, was passionately cursed as a result of my repeated failings. That sort of experience is helpful in ensuring the name in question will be remembered, but it is admittedly a little awkward at the time.

Even when you recognize a face, you must identify its origin and your current relationship with it in order to judge the appropriate response. And all this in mere seconds!

First, does the face you see before you merit acknowledgment? If I recognize you but don’t know from where, what should I do? If I know you from class but we’ve never uttered a word between us, do I do anything at all? If we’ve seen each other naked, but haven’t spoken since freshman year, where do we stand? And as “Jason,” the best show on UPTV pondered — when does a hookah bar friendship step outside of the hookah bar?

These questions are confounding and produce myriad awkward moments. In fact, my daily stroll through campus has become the single most challenging part of my college experience; I don’t dare step onto the first floor of Hillman any longer.

Once you’ve decided on answers to the above questions, the plot thickens. Now, you must select that elusive appropriate greeting. For the guys I know through basketball, a respectful little nod is sufficient, but other situations are not so clear-cut. Will it be a simple hello or maybe a wave? Maybe a “how’ve you been?” is sufficient but would a “give me a call sometime” or — even better — the promise to “get together this weekend” in passing be in order?

The highest level of these is what Larry David calls a “stop-and-chat.” While these can be quite pleasant if the people involved are on the same page, the risk of discomfort is at its peak. What will typically happen if this pseudo-conversation were ill-advised is that the words “Well, I’m running late to class” will immediately follow the answer to, “How’s your semester going?” In particularly uncomfortable situations, I’ve shamelessly used the same excuse at midnight.

Is there anything more embarrassingly awkward than an extended conversation with someone with whom you have nothing to talk about? There isn’t. As one of my friends less than fondly recalled, “He made me suffer through an entire cigarette’s worth of conversation two months after our one night stand.” It’s horrid, really.

And that is just the thing — the longer the time between meetings, the more agonizing the next encounter. Fortunately, we all develop a routine during a semester and become accustomed to the usual faces at the usual times. But a couple of days ago, I found myself out and about at an unusual time. This departure from my routine resulted in no less than a half dozen awkward encounters in about 15 minutes — consider yourself warned.

There’s no exit. You’re either a creep or a scumbag depending on your approach, but you are invariably uncomfortable and ill at ease. For that reason, my eyes will continue to scrutinize the status of my shoelaces as I try to avoid the creases between blocks of cement on the sidewalk.

Pedja’s customary political ranting will return next week. Engage him in an awkward conversation at pej3@pitt.edu.