Growing up, I was told to expect a few things from college. My tiny world was supposed to be flipped inside-out, completely redefined. No more questionable school lunches, stuffy primary school rules, or 7 a.m. alarm clocks. Thick lunch ladies would be replaced with hordes of cute coeds, recess replaced with tailgates and daylong parties. But, mainly, I hoped, I wished, I DREAMED of blossoming into a suave "college gentleman," finally free of cripplingly awkward social blunders and clumsy conversations, of red cheeks and low self-esteem. As it turns out, much has changed. Almost everything, actually, but I can still say without a doubt that, despite everything that is so awesome about college, it can get still awkward here, albeit in its own way. 

The awkwardness has matured, much like we all have. No longer do we worry about our voice cracking, shrill and prepubescent, while reading out of the textbook during class but, rather, we have to worry about things like running into Tinder matches on the street. There's also that occasional person who greets you as if you were long-lost childhood friends, but you have no idea who the hell they are, nor do you remember the two-hour soul-searching conversation you apparently had outside of [other person you don't remember]'s apartment. Things like that are common realities here in State College, and we've all shared those experiences. It's important to bond over our similarities, being a student body and all, and I think that we're neglecting a huge, untapped resource: all the stuff that makes us, universally, uncomfortable!

Here are some awkward scenarios that I know I've shared with some of you:

The CATA Bus Eye-Contact Showdown

There's a very, very specific reason as to why I refuse to sit in that first row of fold-down seats on the bus - you know, the first ones you see as you board, the ones that face the parallel row across from them and force you to stare directly at the person sitting two feet in front of you. *Shudders*. That's like sitting across from someone at a slightly elongated restaurant booth, waiting silently, looking at literally anything except for their eyes. It's torturous.

The Professor With No Boundaries

Admittedly, I've only ran into this one once, but it was among a lecture hall of at least 250 and happened pretty much every day. I'll keep names out of this because, despite the use of past tense, I'm still taking this course, and if I'm going to flunk it for any reason, it's going to be because I gave it the ol' college try - not for this. 

To put things bluntly, I have this one professor - we'll call him Dr. Obert de Line - who is very clearly a bit too fond of one of the TAs. For example, Obert will be giving a demonstration that requires human participants and, rather than choosing from the array of available TAs in front of him, he opts for "Susie," who's on the other side of the lecture hall. 

Leaking Music

This one, for some reason, is the one that irks me the most. Having headphones in is an exercise in isolation - you want to be in your own head, minding your own business, listening to whatever you please. As someone whose musical tastes are all over the place, I can be checking out some weird, new tunes at any given time. Breaking the fragile, silent atmosphere in a packed library or crowded bus with vulgar rap lyrics or screeching dubstep sends my face straight from milky white to flushed red.  

Running with a Backpack On

Okay, here's one that hasn't really changed from...ever. Running with a backpack on has never been pulled off smoothly by anyone to my knowledge. It doesn't matter why you're running - to catch the bus, because you're a foreign exchange student and break off into sprints for leisure (can someone explain this to me?), there's an armed mob chasing you...doesn't matter. Still awkward. *flop flop flop flop flop flop* 

The Bus Gauntlet 

Okay, you're in the back of the bus, sitting down and texting, what have you, and you look up to realize that you are pulling up to your stop. It's the middle of the afternoon and the bus is packed, as always. You glance around to see if the cluster of people in your vicinity have that "I'm getting off here" preparation face - they don't. Crap. The bus stops, that "wooshing" sound of air escapes from the brake system, and people start hopping off. Everyone has their backs turned to you, and half of them are deaf to "excuse me," so you have to squeeze past these tight walls of strangers before the doors close or the new people getting on the bus push back even more bodies to get in your way - time is of the essence and nobody else gives a s@#$. The worst part is how uncomfortably close you get to all the people you need to squeeze by, these possible Ebola hosts or warts-of-the-breath carriers. I've been in consensual relationships that failed to get this physically intimate. If all else fails, and God has truly not taken any pity on your cause, you just have to yell, "CAN YOU OPEN THE DOORS?!"