Oh spring break how I love thee, let me count the ways…

Nope, never mind. I got nothing.

For me, spring break is just another venue to further the daily embarrassment that I put myself through.

In the course of the past ill-fated week, I was shoved into more cold sweat, clammy palm and hyperventilation inducing situations than I care to tell you about. But, of course, I will anyway. I know how you all revel in my absolute social inadequacy.

The first unfortunate happenstance took place the day before I was scheduled to leave for break. Yes, I count this as a part of the dreaded holiday, don’t be so particular.

I was walking through the CUB, which is a veritable minefield of social awkwardness for me, when I spotted someone that I vaguely knew from a class.

I have no idea what demon overtook me in the next millisecond, but I looked up to see my hand gesticulating in a wild rhythmic succession in the direction of my vaguely known fellow student.

Yes, I was waving. And yes, he walked right on by me without even noticing.

Muttering a curse to the social interaction gods and to my pernicious affliction, Ghost Syndrome, I felt my face erupt into flaming tongues of embarrassment.

But it doesn’t stop there.

I tucked my chin to my chest and made a beeline for the door when my course was rudely interrupted by a massive wall of muscle and erroneously colossal sneakers.

I had run smack into a football player.

Wall of Muscle: “Woah! You okay?”

Me: “MERP!”

With that coherent utterance I scuttled away like a cockroach at an exterminator convention.

Thinking things could not possibly get worse I zeroed in on the door to my salvation and reached for the press bar.

And with a sickening thud I hit the door full speed ahead on the WRONG SIDE.

What a lovely way to start off my spring holiday, eh? Yes, quite.

Jump a few days and disastrous social situations later and I was running an errand at the mall near my home.

Generally, I am the type to avoid malls at all and any cost, but this was an essential errand. I needed eye shadow. Yes, that was sarcasm.

I had just bought my ridiculously unnecessary item and was about to put my wallet back in my bag when —

“CHIIIIINNNNNGGGGG clackle clackle”

I had forgotten to zip the obscenely overstuffed change pocket of my wallet and it had vomited its metallic contents all over the floor of the department store.

The only thing that escaped my mouth was, “Oh dear Buddha, no.”

I stared at the ground in increasing panic and catatonia. I could feel the snide stares of the gaggle of prepubescent middle school mall crawlers burning into my scalp.

Then I heard a deep voice bellow out across the store, “Oh hey Ana, need some help?”

There are people in everyone’s lives that they always see, but never talk to. Or maybe that’s just me?

I had gone to high school with the owner of this particularly deep voice and never exchanged a single word with him, but as soon as we got to college he felt it necessary to say hello to me every time he saw me. Every. Single. Time. Leaving me thinking, “Brosef, I don’t even know you...”

Anyhoo, I looked up to see him, we’ll call him Darryl, and another guy I had never seen in my life, we’ll call him Bert.

I managed to stutter out a halting, “Uhh…yeah that’d be…that’d be nice...”

With that, Darryl and Bert preceded to help me pick up the contents of my change pocket as my palms became clammier and clammier.

Darryl: “Well, see you back in Pullman. Bye Ana!”

Me: “Holy poopers why does this kind of thing always happen to me?”

Darryl: “What was that?”

Me: “Uhh nothing! Heh, adios muchacho!”

Why I said goodbye in Spanish, I will never know.

In any case, I got out of the mall faster than Britney Spears at a Mickey Mouse Club reunion.

And Darryl, if you’re reading this, OH MY ALLAH THANK YOU SO MUCH.

More embarrassment ensued in the later days of my break, but these two circumstances are the only ones I’m willing to share.

I hope your breaks were less clammy than mine, and if they weren’t, I feel your pain.

Seacrest, out!