Tongue Tied

I am rarely at a loss for words. According to my dad, this is in large part due to my being half-Jewish and therefore blessed with the gift of gab. I'd like to brush this off as a stereotype, but it's hard to ignore the fact that Sunday dinners at my parent’s house usually reach a dangerously high decibel level and people often start turning red in the face waiting to interject with their contribution to the conversation. That is usually when my dad starts whispering vaguely anti-Semitic jokes to Husband or Brother-In-Law, the other two gentiles in our clan, and they have a nice little chuckle observing the madness that surrounds them.

But I digress. Point is, I can usually carry on a conversation with anyone. I have, however, recently discovered that there are certain comments that make me feel verbally awkward. They inhabit a strange limbo between questions and compliments, and include such gems as:

-Your hair is getting long
-I saw you running
-That [insert food you are eating] looks good.
-I ran into [insert name of sibling, friend, etc.] yesterday

I never know what to say when people make these observations, and the response I usually come up with feels entirely inappropriate. Like today when a co-worker saw me cutting up cucumbers in the break room and said “those are some nice-looking cucumbers.” And do you know what I said in reply? “Thank you.” As if I grew those cucumbers with my own two hands, when in fact I just picked them up at Ream’s for 50 cents a pop. The words felt strange the minute they left my mouth, and my co-worker gave me a funny little look before scampering off to eat his Lean Cuisine meal.

But I ask you people, what in the devil was I supposed to say? “Yes, these are truly fine cucumbers, I’m ever so excited to eat them?” Honestly. It’s like people go out of their way to make me feel awkward.