It is one of the most horrific social experiences known to man. And it is out there, lurking quietly behind counters and uniforms. It is next to you on the treadmill at the gym, or teaching the spin class that leaves before your yoga.
No matter your class, status, age, or occupation. Somewhere, at sometime, it has happened to you. Most likely it was at your local coffee shop, where an innocuous looking coffee-guy type* took making change as an opportunity to run his finger oh-so-gently across the palm of your hand.
If you patronize bars or clubs – either the top 40 kind or the live indie stage show kind – it may have happened to you there. Actually, the list of possible places for it to happen is almost endless: at the dog park, at the zoo, at the record store, while buying shoes, etc., etc., and so forth.
And if it has ever happened to you, you know the dark terrors of the seemingly innocuous touch and it’s potential to drive whoever it is inflicted on bat-shit insane.
After being the victim of the seemingly innocuous touch, a thousand thoughts inevitably race through your head:
Did I accidentally flirt with him?
Is he flirting with me?
It is hard to tell when someone is flirting. I guess I'm just not very good at stuff like that.
It's 'cause I'm weird.
Am I putting a weird “vibe” out there?
Was it one of those, “hey, I think you could use a hug, but since I don’t know I’ll just seemingly innocuously touch you” moments?
Do I need a hug? If so, why?
No, I don't need a hug. He was definitely into me.
Or maybe he was just trying to give me my change and I have a psychotic disorder where I think everyone I meet is into me?
Oh my god, am I insane?
I AM artsy. Van Gogh was pretty nuts.
But, of course, I’m nowhere near as talented as Van Gogh.
Plus, I’m not a painter.
Why am I worrying about Van Gogh? This seems irrational. Could it be irrational paranoia?
I do still have both ears -- that must mean SOMETHING…
Is that really my measure of sanity? Having two ears? Maybe I am losing it.
At which point you leave the coffee shop to stumble into the closest dive bar for a whiskey straight up. (Or at least you do in my fictionalized scenario.)
Another outing ruined by the seemingly innocuous touch. So, citizens beware. Someone out there may be looking to seemingly innocuously touch you. Once you’ve received the touch, it may be too late. Just look at what happened to Van Gogh.
* A note to reader(s): I try not to patronize Starbucks, which is why I can’t use the phrase “barrista-type,” even though, for writing purposes, it does seem much clearer. I try not to be an annoying tree-huggery liberal, especially because I drive a plain old non-hybrid car, but there is something wonderful about Mom and Pop shops and, whatever that wonderful thing is, it makes me want to do everything within the realm of my tiny powers to keep people out of chain stores and in little local gems. But, I digress...
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