You may know this about me already, but sometimes I find myself in awkward situations. I’m not sure why this happens. Perhaps it’s because of my upbringing. Maybe Mercury is in a retro arcade. Perhaps it’s because of my zodiac sign, but even that’s awkward because my mother could not decide which sign was best, so I was born on the Libra-Scorpio cusp. For the rest of my life I’ll be arguing with grandmas and policemen about whether I’m really a Libra or a Scorpio. I can neither confirm nor deny that this argument sometimes leads to fistfights.

Either way, I’m not so sure I buy into the whole zodiac sign thing. Even doing the research is awkward because I’m usually offended by what I find. One source claimed that the Libra-Scorpio “characteristics are known to lean on drama and criticism.??? Now, anyone who knows me knows that I’m not dramatic and I save most criticism for myself. Another source noted that we don’t usually like to take advice and we prefer people to mind their own business. Well, that part is 100% true. Maybe there is something to this zodiac thing after all.

Anyway, because I’ve learned from three and a half of my past mistakes, I didn’t set up any resolutions for the new year. It’s too early in 2020 to feel badly about not going to the gym or for having that chocolate cake for breakfast after you’ve already had pancakes and eggs. No one has time for that negativity. Instead, 2020 will be all about positivity, and I’m positive I’m not going to the gym or giving up after breakfast desserts any time soon.

Although I didn’t set New Year’s resolutions, per se, I did decide to try to read more. A friend recently shamed me by revealing that she’d read over 100 books in 2019. She then asked how many I’d tackled. You should have seen the look she gave me when I asked if restaurant menus and nutritional content labels counted. That noted, this new goal, which is not to be confused with a resolution, is how I found myself strolling through the aisles of the local Barnes & Noble.

After thumbing through some writing books, I got a bit disoriented, made a wrong turn, and found myself surrounded by things that made me very uncomfortable. Somehow, I’d ended up in the toy section. Dolls, stuffed bears, and building blocks were everywhere. I tried to make a mad dash for the nearest sign of an adult book, but there were strollers, and toddlers, and baby mamas all over the place hindering my exit strategy.

I expected these strolling mothers to look at me disapprovingly since I didn’t have the required child with me to gain access to the kid section. However, they didn’t. Instead, they simply smiled and gave me a knowing look. Once I received the fourth motherly nod, I knew something was wrong. I would soon learn why.

Just when I’d saw a sign for self-help books off in the distance (a place I desperately needed to be per my mom and my team of shrinks), a little girl pointed to my midsection. I followed her gaze and began to scream. Apparently, I’d gotten a little too comfortable after having four muffins for breakfast, and I’d somehow forgotten my girdle that day. Instead of sucking things in like I typically do, my stomach had lapped over my belt and was attempting to make a run for it right there in front of the My Little Pony rack. I appeared to be expecting twins at any minute.

Of course, this was a travesty. I’m a single man/he/him. I’m supposed to consistently be putting my best foot forward to remain marketable and to ensure I always look like my Match.com and KindaChristianMingles profile pictures. As William Shakespeare once said, who is going to want to buy the milk, if you look like a cow in the crafts aisle of a bookstore? Although I appreciated building solidarity with those mothers, I was offended that they assumed I was pregnant. Unfortunately, my horizontal striped shirt wasn’t doing me any favors that day either.

As one of the mothers gave me a high-five, I shook my head and informed her that I wasn’t pregnant. She tilted her head to the side and handed me a prenatal vitamin. At that moment, someone came up from behind me and handed me a business card for her OB-GYN. Weirdly, I’d just been reading reviews for gynecologists on Yelp. It’s the one doctor I don’t have on speed dial yet.

When I’d safely made it to the other side of the store, I went back to focusing on my reading goal. You’ll be happy to know that I decided to start strong. My first choice of book for the year was Kiss the Girls by James Patterson. Unfortunately, when looking at his book covers, I was disturbed to see that he is listed as “The World’s #1 Best-Selling Writer.??? This upset me greatly because my partially accredited university had promised me that if I’d just paid them $200,000 per semester, I’d be the number one bestseller. In any case, I had to get to the bottom of things.

After making a few calls to my local grocery store, I finally reached my college advisor. He has taken up stocking shelves when he’s not giving school and career advice. He’d really like to be full time, but his manager said he’s not qualified because he majored in Biology. No worries though, once he finishes his fourth degree, they’ve promised to reconsider.

Perhaps I’m being a bit dramatic and critical, but I could sense disappointment and disdain in his voice when he paused and asked if I’d written a book. “Well, no,??? I answered, “but that’s beside the point.??? I assumed the best-selling writer status came along with my degree. No one told me I’d have to actually write books to earn the title. Perhaps this is why you should always ask questions before agreeing to things or deciding on a college major. If I’d had a gynecologist on staff at the time, I’m sure this would’ve never happened. Lesson learned.

Michael Rochelle
Humor blog: www.humormike.com
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Twitter: @mikeyllo