I am just starting to get comfortable, socially, at my new job. I've been there since November, but the first few months are always awkward as the new person in an office where everyone knows each other and gets along well. It doesn't help that, since it's the only time I have easy access to the internet, I read sympathetic emails from friends and end up crying at my desk...no one wants to be friends with the weird new girl who cries. But, moving on....
Most of the people in the office are a few years older than I am, with a few exceptions. A group of us always goes for coffee around noon to break up the long morning, where we work from 9am to 2pm, when we have a two-hour break for lunch. Between feeling shy around new people and speaking a foreign language with those new people, and the fact that we only ever get a chance to socialize for fifteen minutes a day at a bar, I am only just now getting into the social swing of things.
Last Wednesday was a particularly good day -- the morning coffee break went well, I successfully told a relevant, funny story in (what I think was) perfect Spanish, and everyone laughed. It's just like middle school all over again. They like me! Maybe they will be my new friends! Look at them laughing! They LIKE me!! So when we all came back from lunch I was feeling extra buoyant, relaxed, like I'd proven myself somehow.
When I returned to my desk I had an email from a friend, forwarded from some other friend, about a litter of 11 Husky puppies that needed homes. I don't know how recent or reliable this email was, but I knew my friend had sent it to me because of my weakness for animals, so I forwarded it along, and began asking people as they came back to the office if they wanted a dog. "¿Quieres un perro?" I said to everyone as they settled back into their desks. It was random, and funny. I swear. I was being sociable and a little bit sassy. My "true self" was coming out. And they still liked me! Look at me go!
The people who'd already arrived were egging me on to ask each person as they walked in. "Hey, aren't you going to ask him about the dogs?" And I, of course, would oblige, and the joke continued. Then Raúl, the quiet, softspoken, shy computer-something-engineer-software-whatever (see how much I understand about the company?) walked in and I said, just as with all the rest, "¿Oye, quieres un perro?" He flinched, but didn't so much as look at me. Just continued past to hang up his coat, returning to his desk next to mine without a word. I looked confusedly around at my coworkers-turned-accomplices for help. "Hey, what, Raúl, you don't like animals?" Ask Pablo, one of the more outgoing of my coworkers. "Ohh," said Raúl with barely any emotion. "I thought you said 'Que eres un perro.'" Everyone burst in to uproarious laughter. I blushed like the pink grapefruits that just came into season. He didn't hear me ask if he wanted a dog; he heard me say "You're such a dog."
I apologized profusely, stumbling over my Spanish as I tend to do when flustered. He said it was fine. Everyone else couldn't stop laughing.
It's one thing to tell funny stories, but once my coworkers can't walk back into the office without the weird foreign girl calling them names...it's time to tone back the sass.
Most of the people in the office are a few years older than I am, with a few exceptions. A group of us always goes for coffee around noon to break up the long morning, where we work from 9am to 2pm, when we have a two-hour break for lunch. Between feeling shy around new people and speaking a foreign language with those new people, and the fact that we only ever get a chance to socialize for fifteen minutes a day at a bar, I am only just now getting into the social swing of things.
Last Wednesday was a particularly good day -- the morning coffee break went well, I successfully told a relevant, funny story in (what I think was) perfect Spanish, and everyone laughed. It's just like middle school all over again. They like me! Maybe they will be my new friends! Look at them laughing! They LIKE me!! So when we all came back from lunch I was feeling extra buoyant, relaxed, like I'd proven myself somehow.
When I returned to my desk I had an email from a friend, forwarded from some other friend, about a litter of 11 Husky puppies that needed homes. I don't know how recent or reliable this email was, but I knew my friend had sent it to me because of my weakness for animals, so I forwarded it along, and began asking people as they came back to the office if they wanted a dog. "¿Quieres un perro?" I said to everyone as they settled back into their desks. It was random, and funny. I swear. I was being sociable and a little bit sassy. My "true self" was coming out. And they still liked me! Look at me go!
The people who'd already arrived were egging me on to ask each person as they walked in. "Hey, aren't you going to ask him about the dogs?" And I, of course, would oblige, and the joke continued. Then Raúl, the quiet, softspoken, shy computer-something-engineer-software-whatever (see how much I understand about the company?) walked in and I said, just as with all the rest, "¿Oye, quieres un perro?" He flinched, but didn't so much as look at me. Just continued past to hang up his coat, returning to his desk next to mine without a word. I looked confusedly around at my coworkers-turned-accomplices for help. "Hey, what, Raúl, you don't like animals?" Ask Pablo, one of the more outgoing of my coworkers. "Ohh," said Raúl with barely any emotion. "I thought you said 'Que eres un perro.'" Everyone burst in to uproarious laughter. I blushed like the pink grapefruits that just came into season. He didn't hear me ask if he wanted a dog; he heard me say "You're such a dog."
I apologized profusely, stumbling over my Spanish as I tend to do when flustered. He said it was fine. Everyone else couldn't stop laughing.
It's one thing to tell funny stories, but once my coworkers can't walk back into the office without the weird foreign girl calling them names...it's time to tone back the sass.
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