So, here’s the thing about meeting cute guys in New York City: it never goes smoothly. And when Tessa’s involved? Well, let’s just say you’d be better off watching an unedited documentary about penguins tripping over each other. It’s amusing, a little painful, and you can’t help but wonder how it even happens. Anyway, last Friday night, the gang was out at The Dead Rabbit, our go-to pub for debriefing after the week’s collective disasters. It was supposed to be a casual night out. But then again, nothing ever goes as planned with us.
Me: “Okay, so Mark spilled his drink, Chaz is arguing with the bartender about protein content in beer, and you’re—wait, Tessa, are you even listening?”
Tessa wasn’t listening. Her eyes were glued to the corner of the bar where Mr. Absurdly Handsome was leaning casually, chatting with his friends. She’d been staring at him for the last ten minutes, oscillating between blushing furiously and muttering psychological terms under her breath.
Tessa: “He’s… I mean… what do I do? Should I say something? What if I say something stupid? No, I can’t. I’ll just—”
Sophie (leaning in with a smirk): “Oh no, you absolutely have to say something. Otherwise, you’ll spend the entire weekend overanalyzing this moment. You know you will.”
Sophie had a point. Tessa had a knack for turning fleeting interactions into epic mental sagas. If left unchecked, by Monday this guy would have a full backstory and a reason why he never wanted to speak to her again, despite never actually talking to her in the first place.
Mark: “Just go say hi. What’s the worst that could happen?” He said this right before almost tripping over his chair. “Oops, uh, ignore that.”
Chaz: “You got this, T. Just walk over, smile, and say ‘Hey, I’m Tessa, and you’re cute.’ Boom! Easy!” He threw in the double peace sign for good measure.
Tessa: “I’m not doing that. I’m not… I can’t… I’ll spill something on him or—”
But before Tessa could finish listing all possible outcomes (including global catastrophes somehow set off by her awkward greeting), Sophie gave her a nudge. A nudge that pushed her straight into the path of Mr. Absurdly Handsome.
Tessa: “Oh my god, I—I’m so sorry!” she stammered, frantically wiping the imaginary wine she hadn’t spilled.
Mr. Absurdly Handsome (chuckling): “It’s okay. Are you alright?”
Now, this is where the situation could have gone two ways. One, Tessa could’ve played it off with a charming quip and walked away with his number. Two, well… you know where this is going.
Tessa: “Yes, I—I’m fine. Well, fine in the sense that I’m here, and you’re here, and that happened, but not ‘fine’ in the, uh, emotional sense, you know, because—”
Mr. Absurdly Handsome: “Um…”
Me: “Abort! Abort mission!” I wanted to scream, but instead, I watched the scene unfold in slow motion. Like a car crash you can’t look away from.
Tessa then, in a bid to salvage the moment, did what any sensible person would do: she offered a handshake. A formal, stiff handshake. The kind you might give your boss. Or a Supreme Court judge.
Mr. Absurdly Handsome, bless his soul, shook her hand. There was an awkward pause where the rest of us collectively cringed.
Let’s take a moment to appreciate this. Tessa, who’s had entire conversations about the nuances of human behavior, was now shaking hands with a cute guy at a bar as if she were at a job interview. We could practically hear her internal monologue: “This is fine. Everything is fine.” Spoiler alert: It was not fine.
After what felt like an eternity (probably only three seconds), Mr. Absurdly Handsome gave a polite smile and excused himself to join his friends. Tessa stood there, hand still hovering in mid-air, her eyes wide with horror.
Tessa (walking back to us): “What did I just do? Why did I SHAKE HIS HAND?”
Mark: “You know, it was a bold move. Unexpected, really.” He was trying to be comforting, but you could see the struggle on his face not to burst out laughing.
Chaz: “You went for the handshake! Bold strategy. Hey, at least you didn’t spill anything.”
Sophie: “He’s looking over here, Tessa. Act normal.”
Tessa immediately glanced over, which obviously meant he saw her looking. She then tried to look casual by taking a sip of her drink, missing her mouth entirely, and spilling some wine down her chin.
Just when we thought the night couldn’t get any more awkward, Mr. Absurdly Handsome walked over. We braced ourselves for whatever cringe-worthy exchange would follow.
Mr. Absurdly Handsome: “Hey, Tessa, right?” He smiled. “That was the most… original introduction I’ve ever had. I liked it.”
Tessa blinked, processing this unexpected twist.
Tessa: “Oh… thanks? I mean, yes. I meant to do that. Yes.” She somehow pulled herself together. “So, uh… do you want to try that again? Maybe without the handshake?”
He laughed. “Sure. But I have to admit, the handshake was… memorable.”
And so, Tessa managed to turn a potentially disastrous situation into an accidental charm. Which just goes to show, sometimes being awkwardly yourself can work out.
But let’s not kid ourselves—she’ll be dissecting this moment for the next week. And yes, we’re never letting her live down that handshake.