SOC(ially awkward) 101

I've heard your stuttering for far too long. I've seen your outstretched hand and I've heard your stock introductions over and over. I've even seen you have the internal to-pop-or-not-to-pop collar debate. And frankly, I've had enough. Yes I'm talking to you, S-s-s-socially Awkward freshman. I empathize.

I, too, came here with limited social skills and ugly striped polos. In fact, I might even dare to say that three years ago I was among the more socially awkward Princeton '07s. The thing is — and I don't know whether this is true of college in general, or just Princeton — we are afforded so many opportunities to display our social handicaps, especially during freshman week and the first few months of the fall semester.

First, you've got those dreaded introductions. You try to sound smart but not too intellectual, playful but not too stupid, interested but not too desperate. Suddenly a simple "Danny from northern New Jersey" becomes "Dan, Danny, Dan, uh, Danny... uh, on campus or at home? I DONT KNOW WHERE I'M FROM." It's not pretty.

Then there's that moment, the one where you're both kind of extending your hands for a formal shake, but then you're overcome by a second of doubt, unsure if it'd be better to swiftly and confidently maneuver a "cool guy handshake." I guess it's important in situations like these to just try to be natural — oh, the irony. All too often, especially when thrown into an overwhelming and often uncomfortable situation like college, the socially awkward among us resort to contrived conversations and forced agendas.

In high school the word "cool" may have been used to describe the star quarterback or the prom queen. Now it means someone who doesn't care, someone who is laid back and just goes with the flow. So stop trying. Extend your hand if you want to. Maybe you'll even have a normal, coherent human conversation. This, of course, still doesn't solve the dining dilemma.

The dining halls offer an almost unparalleled opportunity for awkwardness. The cardinal rule of dining halls is never — and I mean NEVER — wave. You would not believe the number of unreciprocated dining hall waves that occur among the socially awkward. Sit with the people you arrive with, or convince yourself, as I did, that sitting alone is cool. Let others join you but never invite them and never invite yourself to join a group of acquaintances already sitting at a table. By doing this, you avoid all potentially awkward rejections, as well as painstakingly difficult fake conversation.

While this advice works fine for the college dining halls, you will be spending a lot of time in Frist as well. And that calls to mind two words that strike fear into the heart of every socially awkward freshman: late lunch.

Late lunch is perhaps the most intimidating of Princeton experiences. It brings people-watching to a whole new level and can cause even a normal person to lapse into awkwardness. When meeting someone for late lunch, arrange an alternate meeting spot, such as Cafe Viv. This way you will not be subjected to the stares and glares of the dining gallery while you wait at the bottom of that staircase for your friends. You might also wish to bring your food upstairs and sit alone in front of the TV, to avoid passing tables of people you know or sitting alone in the main room.

It may seem as though I'm advising you to be antisocial, but what I'm really suggesting is that you simply take some time during this adjustment period to do just that: adjust. Be aware of the process and slowly you will gain confidence, make friends and grow out of your socially awkward shell. Just make it happen quick! There's nothing worse than a socially awkward sophomore.