Here's what I did: Everything.
I live in a summer resort area and am anthropophobic. My idea of a fun holiday weekend involves crawling under a rock until it's over. Vacationers see beaches and fancy cocktails with monkey straws. I see people everywhere and no way to take a left turn.
For some reason, being able to turn left is inexplicably tied to my happiness.
I navigate crowds by getting places early - like hitting the grocery store at 7am. I went to a play on Thursday while it was in preview, rather than waiting until it opened on Saturday. All was well.
From there, I went to my favorite nightclub, which is housed in an old life-saving station right on the beach. They open the Thursday before Memorial Day with a locals' summer bash. As usual, I got there early to beat the crowd.
When I arrived, the short road leading to the club looked like this:
|Close Encounters of the Vacationing Kind|
There were cars waiting for spaces to open up in the parking lot. There were less patient cars parked along Ocean View Drive (all of whom were ticketed, which hopefully means the town can afford fireworks this year). There were headlights and people and ocean fog.
I went home.
(But don't get me wrong - I love fog.)
I can't remember what we did on Friday, but on Saturday my friend texted, asking if I was going to the elementary school fair. He did not ask because he wanted our company, mind you. He asked because he needed someone to watch his kids at the fair. Knowing that I would at some point want him to watch our kids, we went.
When we drove up, Chris said "what have I been roped into?" and I said "this is AWESOME."
The fair, which is usually a pretty lame affair, had huge slides and a giant inflated giraffe. There were spinning teacups and a Viking Ship. There was ice cream and cotton candy and a line-up of bands that played music you'd want to listen to on purpose
We took good care of our friend's kids.
(That's the bay in the background. Neato, huh?)
Then we went to a party and were fed lasagna while someone else watched our kids.
On Sunday another friend needed a ride to see the first rehearsal of his play, so I piled the kids in the car and off we went to "help our friend." (Read: eat burritos and ice cream at the harbor.)
By Monday I figured we had done enough (albeit accidentally) to call it a holiday, and had just settled in for a long Memorial Day nap, when we got another text - this time inviting us to a cookout on the lake.
And that is how I overcame my fear of people. The end.