One of them is her ability to just casually chat up anyone she meets randomly, whether while studying in Starbucks, or lining up at the grocery store. And no matter who that stranger is, he or she responds warmly. Maybe it’s because Mimi just talks to you like you’re already her friend. Or maybe it’s her charming Southern drawl. Probably the fact that she’s a cute redhead with freckles can’t hurt when it comes to guys. But whatever the reason, I think it’s a trait to be admired.

I was never really able to cultivate this ease in conversations. Having been brought up in an Asian culture, I was mostly taught to mind my own business and not make eye contact with strangers. Actually, any attempts to happily discuss the weather on the bus in Singapore, and I’d probably find myself standing amidst a clearing, no matter how crowded the bus.

Anyway. It’s one of my goals to be able to comfortably talk with anyone, at any place, without getting nervous and sounding incoherent (my stupid accent thickens when I get flustered). My journalistic career depends on it, because my nerves trip me up when it comes to interviews.

Well, today, I had the perfect chance. To talk to a perfect stranger. And I do mean, he was a perfectly chiseled stud.

See, this is what happened: I left my cell phone in the lecture hall. I was feeling rather dozy that morning, so I must have left in a daze, because I could not remember for my life where I put my cell phone, and as we all know, cell phones are our life.

I rushed back to my lecture hall in a frenzy (though I briefly debated just giving it up as lost so I can convince my parents to get me an iPhone). But when I reached the spot where I was sitting before, I didn’t see my cell phone anywhere.

I panicked.  And I couldn’t exactly start getting on my knees and searching for it, because students were piling in for the next class. Holy crap, I thought. God, I’m so sorry I was greedy and despised my cell phone for not being an iPhone. Please, let me just find my old phone.

“Are you looking for something?” someone asked.

I turned around, and this annoyingly good-looking guy was staring at me staring at the floor in despair. Usually I would just shrug, mumble something, and avoid eye contact. Then I realized this would be a great chance to work on my people skills.

I told him I lost my cell phone. We chatted for awhile. Casually. Friendlily. I wasn’t even nervous at all!  Then he offered his cell phone so that I can call mine. So far, so good. I dialed my number.

And less than a second later, the familiar tune of Aladdin’s “Prince Ali” blared loudly from the back pockets of my skinny jeans.

Oh. Freaking. SHIT, I thought. That was my cell phone. Singing “Prince Ali, Fabulous He!” with impossible loudness from my butt. 

My face turned a thousand shades of red. How the hell did I forget I had stuck it in my back pocket? Why the hell did I set it to the loudest volume? Why the hell did I choose that Disney tune?

“Uh, what’s that?” my perplexed stranger said. His expression got suspicious.

“He’s got ninety-five white Persian monkeys, He’s got the monkeys, let’s see the monkeys,” my damn cell phone sang back.

“Oh, gosh, I’m late for my next class,” I exclaimed, shoving his cell phone back into his hands, and darted off as fast as my legs would carry me.

And that was the end of my casual conversation with a stranger. Clearly, the world is against me.

Oh well. It’s not the end of the world. All I did was completely humiliate myself in front of a good-looking stranger. If I’m careful enough, I never have to see him again. That’s the good thing about chatting with strangers, I guess. You don’t have to see each other again. But within that short period of time, you just enjoy each other’s company.

So, I lost my perfect chance then, but I still have other chances. For now, I’ll stick with familiar people though. I need time to build up my courage again.

Funny how I have no problem dealing with unfamiliar foods, though. When it comes to food, I love trying out adventurous, novel cuisines and food combinations. This sense of gastronomical creativity comes easily to me, and I was surprised to find that not everyone shares the same audacity as me when it comes to food.

Except, this image of this fabulous sandwich is seriously distracting from my work right now. And I really need to go back to my truckloads of assignments and readings. More bitching to come. Anticipate. Yeah, you.