Step #9: Exhibit C - You can't make this stuff up

***I'm not sure why the font size is all over the place! I've been trying to fix it for a while and can't figure it out. Hope it doesn't detract from my lovely story! I promise, tomorrow we're back to babies and daily rambles!

We're baaaack! No worries, I haven't been seething in some dark place about Exhibit B, life has just been a bit wild between work and baby. Typically this blog doesn't get that serious, so I must apologize if it took anyone by surprise! I promise, this one is going to make your jaw drop, but thankfully, it is my last Exhibit of Proof that I attract weird people who feel the need to make amends. I give you...

Exhibit C: "Mr. Hair" aka Love child of Art Garfunkel & Albert Einstein

This had to be by far the most unexpected amends-maker. A little background, please:

Sometimes I have a habit of making it my "mission" to be nice to people who seem uncomfortable around me. Typically it is someone who is very different than myself, or someone who has a pre-formed opinion of me that is inaccurate. Sometimes it is just that they are painfully shy with everyone. Usually I am just trying to figure out WHY they're acting uncomfortable around me, and I like a good challenge. If I know WHY you don't like me, it's cool. But I have this NEED to know why people act the way they do. Enter this dude.

We'll call him "Mr. Hair" for the sake of protecting the innocent. This poor guy looks like the illegitamate love child of Art Garfunkel & Albert Einstein. I'm not trying to be cruel, just painting the scene as accurately as possible. It is freshman year of college and I think I first met Mr. Hair when we had a course together. We didn't even talk in class, and he made a conscious effort to avoid eye contact. This is a major feat in a class of only 16 people, and whenever I see him in passing on campus he absolutely refuses to speak. It is painful to watch. He is possibly the most socially awkward human being I've ever encountered. As in, you can see the internal dialogue in his head as he approaches: "Should I talk to her? Yeah, I'm cool..no, no, no! Don't know what to say! Must avoid eye contact at. all. costs! (sweat, sweat, cough, cough) Must. not. look. at. female." These awkward moments usually ended one of two ways: 1) me mumbling "hey" and smiling as we passed and he ran by with his head down, or 2) him ducking off the path before we had to pass by one another. And wouldn't you know it...he is probably one of the people that I cross paths with the MOST out of an entire undergrad population of 8,000 people. Dang. So awkward that I find myself cringing with my shoulders up around my ears just remembering it!

I promise, all of this backstory has a purpose...

So, as I said, it was going to be my mission to be NICE to him. Because NICE GIRLS make the effort to understand why people are uncomfortable around them. Plus, I'm verging on painfully shy also, so I sorta' understand what he's going through. For the next 4 years we see each other in passing, I continue to say polite hellos and get little to no response in return. Don't get me wrong, I didn't spend a whole lot of time thinking about Mr. Hair. I was livin' it up, enjoying the college experience. I just basically chalk it up to him being very shy, and possibly having a crush on me. And we ALL KNOW what the priests tell teen males is the #1 sin: impure thoughts about your female classmates!
One time junior year I end up standing directly behind him at the student union and we're both buying Swedish fish, so it seems like I pretty much have to say something. So I say something about how man, I run into you everywhere Mr. Hair! What's your major? Mine's psych, blah blah blah. Ooh, another Swedish fish fiend like me, yeah they help me get through studying for that final, blah blah. Good luck with finals buddy! He paid for his Swedish fish, turned on his heel, and RAN.

I promise....all of this backstory has a purpose!

Then I determined that I was going to stop bugging this guy by trying to force him to say hello. Who cared? He probably just was very socially awkward and obviously he hung out with a group of equally social awkward guys and seemed to have a good life going here at Notre Dame, so why did I feel the need to force him out of his shell? Who was I to take him on as a "project"? He didn' t ask for that.

Fast forward to spring of senior year. My girlfriends and I are out at the Linebacker, which is the last bar that everyone is funneled to because it is the only one open until 4am. Dancing, drinking, and general mayhem ensue, which is fairly typical when hanging with my girls. We are definitely not the most popular group of girls or anything, but we have a lot of fun together and I think we all agree that college was a great experience overall. Back to the 'Backer... I'm dancing, gettin' my groove on, shakin' it, and then who do I spot across the bar, but Mr. Hair! And he's wasted. Uh oh. And he's walking straight over to me. Double uh-oh. This should be interesting. I've never seen him in a social situation before. Or intoxicated.
Mr. Hair proceeds to dance the night away along with his group of equally socially awkward group of guy friends, who are now beginning to resemble the Night at the Roxbury guys. And he's actually talking to my friends and I and having fun! Good for him! Then he's dancing right behind me and then I feel the standard "I'm-drunk-at-the-bar-so-I-can-put-my-hand-on-your
butt-from-behind-and-you-shouldn't-notice" move. (groan! cringe!) This move is patented, right ladies? So typical, and hey, we're at the 'Backer so you really can't be too upset. Your simple presence at this place practically screams "we won't want to discuss what happens here the next morning". But this development is absolutely SHOCKING given that Mr. Hair is compelled to run in the other direction if we're coming face to face on campus. Well, well, Mr. Hair, that shot of liquid confidence was all you needed, eh? I turned around and laughed and said something to him about "oh wow, maybe I should dance where I can see your hands!" and immediately he began a barrage of apologies, groveling and apparently instant sobriety. I told him it was no big deal, really, and he shouldn't be embarrassed, and hey, now that he'd pawed my heinie he at least had to say hello in passing! His groveling continued, my reassurance continued, until finally my friends were mercifully ready to pack it in so we could end this painful and embarrassing exchange.

I don't think that I really saw him again before graduation and then I didn't think about him at all for the next 8 years.

Then I get an email though our college alumni group...
it is Mr. Hair and this is the synopsis of his email:
(keeping in mind that this is the 3rd of this type of discussion that I've had in 1.5 yrs)

Hello. This is Mr. Hair. I hope you remember me. (Look up the name in the year book to verify. Oh yes, yes, actually I DO. Especially that awkard groveling at the Linebacker that night. I wish you'd "manned up" and claimed that butt-grab because that would have been less embarrassing that the groveling.) I am at a point in my recovery (WHAT? Recovery? From what? Nerds Anonymous?) that it is time for me to make amends to all of the people that I have hurt throughout my life. (Huh?) I am sorry for anything that I have done or said that has hurt you. It has weighed on my mind for many years, and I am so very sorry. (Is he talking about the butt-grab? Puh-leez! Because if so, there should be a line around the BLOCK of guys who need to make amends for that crime! Should I hire a traffic-cop to organize the crowd control in front of my house?) I hope to hear a response from you. I hear that you are a social worker and I'm glad that there are people like you in this world.

Huh.
So I email him back.

Dear Mr. Hair: I want you to know that I do not harbor any negative feelings toward you in any way. (in fact, I had completely forgotten that you existed) I'm not certain what you feel you need to make amends for. If anything, I feel badly that I obviously made you so uncomfortable when I tried to speak to you. I'm not sure why you were uncomfortable, but it was not my intention to cause you any discomfort. (of course I'm dying to ask what he's in recovery for, but chose not to pry...yeah, it's because I'm NICE.)

Why, oh why, did I have to write back?
Then the response came.

Hi Missy. I felt that my intentions toward you were always impure. (For Pete's sake! This Catholic guilt thing is out of control! You were an adolescent male. Hello?) When I couldn't look at you it was because I knew that I had the intention of having sex with you. (ewww!) I had been advised that for my first sexual experience it would be best to find someone that was very experienced, and I felt that you met the criteria. (WHAT? Presumptuous little a-hole! Apparently he was misinformed, as I was certainly NOT one of the more "experienced" girls there!) I devalued you as a person because of this, but then I started to feel bad about it because you were so nice to me. (There's that darn NICENESS again! Always getting me "devalued" and stuff!) Then I found out that you worked through the Center for Social Concerns organizing Urban Plunge and felt even worse about my intentions. (Oh, ok, so then you figured I might take you on as a CHARITY CASE or something, eh? I don't think that's what Catholic charities had in mind, buddy!) Please accept my most sincere apologies.
Mr. Hair.

Oh. My. Goodness.
What do you say to THAT?
My response was simple.

Dear Mr. Hair: I wish you well in your recovery. It is probably a good thing that I didn't understand your intentions at the time, or I would not have been NICE to you. Just to clarify, you were misinformed.

You can't make this stuff up, people!


So this is what I'm taking away from all of this:

If you are making amends to someone for something that they didn't KNOW ABOUT, is it really helpful to inform them? Or is it just more hurtful?

And did you truly mean to make amends, couldn't you just take it up with God?

So for anyone that tries to involve me in their Step #9:

Save it! I FORGIVE YOU already! I'm a pretty chilled out individual, and chances are I haven't spent every waking second thinking about it!
So save me the drama, say you're sorry to your higher power and
leave me out of it please!