I spelled my last name wrong today. It is not a complicated name....I've been spelling it correctly for some time now. I haven't had to sound it out or anything. But today, while purchasing some music for my piano students, I misspelled my name. The conversation went something like this:
Me (to the clerk): I'm a piano teacher. (I don't go around telling people this, it just happens to get me a discount at the music store.)
Clerk: What's your last name?
Clerk: Is that D-E-N-N-I?
Kristen: Ummmm....Mom....(she looked both afraid, embarrassed, and amused.)
Me: Oh my gosh! That's not how you spell my name...it's E-Y! I'm so sorry....it's D-E-N-N-E-Y.
Clerk: You are clearly unstable. (Okay she didn't actually say this but I could see it in her eyes...I have gotten this look before.) She gave me a polite laugh and continued the transaction, while giving me furtive glances...checking for any twitching or sudden movements on my part.
I finished my purchase, but had to show ID, probably to verify my identity and to provide a record of the mental patient in the store.
Here is my excuse for spelling my name wrong: I am single. I know that doesn't make sense at first, but come with me on a journey of my thought process and you'll understand. (Wear a helmet.)
I was distracted during the transaction because I was thinking about an LDS church singles' activity my cousin and I are going to attend tomorrow. Thinking about it had me so flustered I either mini-stroked, as all good middle-aged Americans do, or my synapses misfired...or stopped firing completely.
In the past I have written about awkward dates, usually making the man seem like the odd one, but I am completely inept at human interaction with single males. (I'm not sure why I had to specify human...but sometimes it's questionable. Shoot...I'm doing it again.) People that know me don't believe this at first, mainly because a single man in his forties is not usually around when they interact with me. (They are an elusive species.) After all, I am completely comfortable speaking in front of large groups. I enjoy telling stories and can talk to pretty much anyone...unless I discover they are single (and male) and in their forties. I then lose control of my limbs and have the conversational abilities of Groot from Guardians of the Galaxy.
Still don't believe me? Allow me to share an example. I was on the elliptical machine at the gym, attempting to chat with a cute guy next to me and I fell off the machine. Yep. Fell off. It has handles and I still fell off. There I was working out, proud of myself for not saying anything stupid when suddenly I realized, "Hey, I'm tipping over." This is the graceful kind of flirting I can put out into the world.
So, anticipating the upcoming social activity, I mini-stroked and temporarily forgot how to spell my own name.
Fortunately, my cousin is equally skilled in her interactions. At one of our previous "singles' activities" she got so flustered she forgot she was holding a cup of water in her hand and ended up throwing it at me. We are quite the unstoppable team. Fortunately, most men never actually discover our awkwardness since we never have the courage to talk to anyone. We tend to stand somewhere on the outskirts of the room and discuss what we would say if we actually peeled ourselves away from the wall. I asked my soon to be 20 year old how to start a conversation with someone at one of these events. She recommended introducing myself, "Hi, I'm Michelle." But I now realize that is too challenging of an opener for me. So, stay tuned, and I promise to let you know how it goes.