Parties, An Interview, and A Robbery... What?

While I haven't been as busy as some others I know, I've certainly had an eventful week or so since I last posted. Let's get started...

This past Friday (not last week but the week before), I did go to a party, and I did have a really great time. In particular, I proved to myself that I can attract the attention of women by just being myself, so I'm slowly chipping away at that insecurity that I mentioned in the last post. I'll fill you in on the most memorable part, but for the story to make sense, I need to give some background.

About a month ago, on November 10th (I think), after an "a capella" show that featured my roommates, I tagged along with them to an after-party. At this party, I made friends with a woman who then invited me to play Beirut (aka "beer pong", if you're not familiar with Lehigh's terminology) with her. I had never done that, and I told her as much, but she coaxed me into it, reassuring me that she wasn't any good either. As it turns out, we did all right (lost by one cup), but more than anything, it was just an excuse for us to hang out with either other and be a little silly. During this game, she mentioned that I reminded her of the character McLovin from the movie Superbad. If you haven't seen this movie, it's about a group of high school kids trying to have a good time (i.e. get laid) before going off to college. And this character is the geeky, socially awkward archetype who ends up having a crazy time and emerging from his shell through the course of the movie. I didn't want to be associated with that character, probably because it hits a little too close to home for me, but also because I genuinely don't think I look much like him. So throughout the night, I protest that the resemblance is barely even skin-deep, while she tries to get everyone at the party to call me McLovin. Later that night, she even goes so far as to have me sign her arm and the small of her back (she asked me for a "tramp stamp") as McLovin. Yeah, it was a silly thing to do, but I couldn't really say "no" without looking ludicrously prudish, so I pushed aside my self-consciousness and gave her the autographs, even going along with posing for some pictures.

Fast forward to two Fridays ago. I'm behind the bar at a friend's house, reacquainting myself with women I had seen at this place before but didn't really know. One of them says, "Hey, you know who you remind me of?" I know what she's going to say before she even answers her own question. "McLovin from that movie, Superbad!" I look at one of the hosts of the party, who is behind the bar with me and who knew the McLovin story, and he's about to lose it. I turn back to the woman, and then I begin banging the bar with my fists in mock frustration, as if this really bothers me. In fact, it didn't, but I know an opportunity for comedy when I see it, and it would also be a good conversation starter ("What? Did I say something wrong?"), so I melodramatically pound the bar for a little while until I'm sure that I've made my point. I tell her the story, and for the rest of the party, this woman is backpedaling, apologizing constantly and reassuring me that she didn't mean to hurt my feelings. It took until almost the end of the party to convince her that I was just kidding and not actually offended. However, I think she liked me a little bit and was afraid that she had actually wounded me with the comparison. I guess I wasn't melodramatic enough at the start to make it clear that I was joking.

Last Sunday, as planned, I drove down to the Baltimore-Washington area to check into my hotel the night before my NSA interview. I spent the night preparing questions for my interviewer and reading Body of Secrets, a book that covers the whole of NSA's history, to familiarize myself with the agency a bit better. But the interview was quite straightforward, lasting about half-an-hour. The position they're trying to fill is more or less simply a programming job, not the cyberwarfare-related position I had expected. While I was disappointed, I was told that, after 2 years with that division of NSA, I could internally apply to other positions, something that NSA encourages to keep employees interested in their work. That restored my enthusiasm somewhat, and the job is still of interest to me. Everyone I met during the whole process (i.e. the people who transported me from building to building to get a badge, fill out paperwork, do fingerprints, etc.) were genuinely friendly, and the work atmosphere there seems really great. I should be hearing back from them this week, as my current job offer's decision deadline is this Friday, so by the end of this week, I'll know where I'll be working next year. Crazy, right?

The rest of the week consisted of working on a paper that was due on Monday but was really due at Tuesday at noon and had a penalty of only one-third of a letter grade (i.e. an A would become an A-, an A- would become a B+, etc.) per day it was late. So by turning it in on Friday morning, the highest grade possible for my paper is a B, but I was proud of the paper that I eventually produced, so I expect to get either a B or B-, which is good enough for me. After that, I studied for an exam that was on Saturday, and now, I'm free until my last exam on Tuesday.

To celebrate my freedom from work for the near future, I hung out with some friends last night. At their house, there was a bit of an awkward moment that made me think of the McLovin incident last weekend. Before I was 21, I was terrified of alcohol and wanted nothing to do with it. Now, I go to several parties a month, and I generally have a few drinks at these parties. So when I decided to try some plum wine that was there, my hosts, who have known me virtually throughout my college career, joshed that I was an alcoholic now. I decided to play along with the joke, claiming that any mistakes I was making during the night were due to my alcoholism. Eventually, another friend of mine said, in a very concerned voice, "Jay, don't worry. You're not an alcoholic. Trust me, I know alcoholics, and you're not one." Somehow, she had gotten the impression that I took what my hosts said to heart, and she was nicely, but unnecessarily, defending my reputation/self-esteem. Just as with the McLovin incident, a joke I made was misconstrued to be serious, leading (this time) to an abrupt end of the joke. Is my humor becoming too subtle? Maybe she didn't know me well enough to tell that I was joking?

Whatever the case, it made me think about how difficult it can be to talk to people. Sometimes, you don't know their background, their history, their tragedies, their pet peeves, all the things that could offend them or remind them of an unpleasant memory. When my friend rushed to my defense over the alcoholic characterization, I got the impression that she was reacting to something that occurred in her past. I guess the only way to avoid issues like that is to get to know your friends better, but it's chilling to know that you might hurt someone you like with a careless joke or flippant remark. Until mind melding becomes a reality or we all transcend to form one consciousness, I suppose there's no way around that risk. Any day now, right?

And as I was having that thought last night, I got a call from my mom. She told me that my brother had been robbed and that his car, money, and cell phone were stolen. She needed me to help her find out how to cancel his cell phone. I did, and shortly afterwards, she promised to call me back later to fill me in on the details and hung up to talk to the police some more. My friends had caught the concern in my voice during my half of the conversation, and I told them what was going on, kind of in shock that this had happened to someone in my family, much less to one of my brothers. Not knowing what else to do, I stuck around with my friends and continued on as before, kept calm by the knowledge that my brother wasn't hurt, that his things could be replaced, and that my parents were in control of the situation.

Minutes after I laid down for bed around 1:30 am, I got another call, during which my mom explained what had happened: A man had approached my brother and his friend in a parking lot, claimed to have a gun, told him to hand over his keys, money, phone, etc., and drove off in my brother's car. Suddenly, I heard one of my parents (I forgot who) say to my brother, "Wait... is that your car?" My brother responded appropriately: "Holy shit!" My mom hastily said, "We've got to go," and hung up again.

I was completely in the dark for 20 minutes, afraid that the guy had shown up at our house to make good on his threat to kill my brother and his friend if they called the police before noon today. Then, after an agonizing wait, my phone rang, and I picked up. "We got him," my mom said breathlessly. "What?" I responded. Here's the full story: This guy was high on some drug, which explains why he was so bold as to approach two people and the dog they were walking, instead of some person by his/herself. As it turned out, the guy never had a gun, but there was no way anyone could have known for certain until afterwards. During my mom's last call, my parents and brother had been driving home on a main road, and they weren't at home like I had feared. As they were driving, this guy, in my brother's car, had pulled right in front of them. They followed him, contacting the police along the way, and eventually he was ID'ed by my brother and his friend, and he was surrounded and arrested. Some of my brother's possessions were kept for evidence, but he has his car back.

I can't make up a story that insane. My brother was pretty shook up immediately afterwards, but according to my parents, he's doing ok now. I can only imagine the long-term repercussions this will have for him psychologically, but as unfortunate as this robbery was, it ended about as well as it could have, so we're all grateful for that. Maybe the quick turnaround will help my brother deal with the fear he experienced, or maybe I'm wrong and he's already bounced back. I sure hope so; I'm not sure I would have.

Regardless of the fact that this didn't happen to me, knowing that it could have easily happened to me led to one of those life re-examination moments. I thought about how all my stress over school seemed petty and insignificant. I thought about my future and whether I'll actually enjoy either of the jobs for which I'll be accepting an offer soon (I can't know for certain, but I think so). I thought about how I'll be starting a new life next year, how my current friends will be all over the map while I'll be in the Baltimore-DC area trying to find new friends (or current friends who happen to be in the area?). Life is advancing unusually quickly, and it's made me appreciate all the good things available to me right now, such as my friends, opportunities, luxury time, etc. I'm looking forward to winter break as a time to reflect on all these things and also as a time to (cliché alert) seize the moment and live in the present. I've always had those sentiments in the back of my mind, nagging at me to make the most of my time, but they're now acuter than ever, and I plan on listening to them.