Something has been gnawing at me for a week now and I need to do something about it.
At last Thursday’s fête en tête-à-tête at the Flying Saucer, I spoke to a Nashville blogger who I think I had only met once before. I won’t name her specifically, because she didn’t do anything wrong and this post is all about my lunkheadedness. I don’t even know if she reads thedryspot.net regularly, but I do know that she’s in my Twitter playgroup.
I really like her stuff and was looking forward to talking to her and getting to know her a little better. So in my awkward nervousness of approaching somebody I hardly know but really admire, (Yeah, I’m shy. I’m a loudmouthed shy guy. There were more than a few of us at the soiree…) I blathered something along the lines of:
“So what do you do in real life?” and/or “Do you have a real job?”
She politely responded that she was a stay at home mom. I knew that. Shit, I’ve been reading about her stay at home life for over a year now. Picture in your mind Chris Farley hitting himself in the head as he interviewed Sir Paul McCartney on SNL. “So, do you remember the Beatles? That was awesome.”
I awkwardly mumbled something like, “Oh wow. You’ve got a REAL job right there.” Stupid, stupid, stupid.
So in summary: I am childless. I am a corporate tool who is but a cog in the industrial machine where I joylessly commute to and from every day. I am often clueless and I am frequently boorish.
I publicly, humbly and sincerely apologize to this very nice person for being such a dumbass.