Awkward

So I’m at a bar, discussing business with my brother, when an Indian man and an Asian man walk in with a rather awkward gait. They sit at the bar, and the Indian man proceeds to ask the bartender what she thinks the definition of a sociopath is, after ordering a Sprite, and his companion a shitty American beer. She says she doesn’t know, and an awkward discussion between four others at the bar proceeds before I supply the actual definition, which upon doing, the Indian man gives me a very wide-eyed stare. I feign interest in the TV, but he keeps staring.

He then asks me if I’d be interested in a box of unopened condoms.

I turn from the TV and give him the blankest stare I can, trying to hide the growing fear that wells up inside my bowels. He explains that he’s moving out and thinks it would be awkward to take them on the airplane with him. As politely as I can, I decline his generous offer, to which he responds with confusion, and a weak, fumbling explanation that he wasn’t serious. An awkward silence ensues, and I turn to my brother for a moment, who’s immersed in a discussion about meetings, but the Indian guy is still staring at me. I dig through the local bowl of Chex mix to find the remaining pretzels, and upon finding one, he asks me again.

“So, seriously, do you want the condoms? It’s unopened, man.”

This whole time his Asian comrade has been giving a stoney glare in front of him at nothing in particular, previously interrupted only by very slow sips at his beer. He now turns to this Indian man and blinks, twice. The Indian guy shifts uncomfortably on his stool and shrugs his shoulders, taking consolation in his tall glass of Sprite which he seems to find bravado in nursing. I attempt to find more pretzels in the bowl of Chex mix.

HOLY CRAP THAT WAS AWKWARD