Situational Shyness Syndrome

My name is Megan Slater and I have a problem.  Maybe you do too.  It goes like this:  In life I think of my personality as a large glittery object that's immersed in extroversion overdrive.  Need a wingman?  I can introduce you to anyone.  All it takes is a quick, "Hi!  I'm Megan, and this is my friend <insert your name here>.  Are you and I Facebook friends yet?" and suddenly it's all hugs and shots.  I don't know how this happens but one of the great revelations of my adult life is that human beings are not scary and mostly seem to like me.  People I've just met generally describe me as "not shy."

"So where's the problem?" you may ask.  The problem is that people who've just met me are generally wrong.  Deep within my heart dwells a well of shyness that manages to manifest itself at the most inopportune times.  Whenever it would be most helpful for that glittery personality to come out and play I'm suddenly 14 years old, hunched over with mismatched socks and awkward hair. 
I'll give you an example.  A couple of months ago I was in Fast Girl Skates, ready to upgrade my skates and excited to take advantage the Atom Wheels release party store-wide discount.  Of course, with the Atom Wheels release party came Atomatrix to sell her company's product and DNN to cover the event.  When I see Atomatrix skate I get the chills a little, so naturally when I walked into the store and saw her to my immediate right I took it as an opportunity to examine my shoes.  I hate admiring people I don't know.  It makes me feel a little creepy, and like heartburn I wish it would just go away.
Fortunately, it didn't take long to find the salesperson I had spoken with earlier in the week about the skates I intended to buy.  I tried them on one last time in the back of the store, made my decision and went to stand in line to buy them. That line took me right back next to Atomatrix.  I looked at her, took a deep breath, "you're one of my favorite skaters," but nothing came out and I swallowed air instead.  My shoes became even more fascinating.  I thought I'd try again, "I just think you're really great."  Nope.  That sounded lame in my head too.
I finally got to the front of the line and was consoling myself with the fact maybe I was staring a little but at least I had not done anything truly awkward.  It was then that I remembered that mouth guards were half off and I wanted a new one.  I looked to the right of the register where they usually sat and was surprised to see they weren't there.  When I asked the sales associate where I could grab one he pointed behind me.  Right past Atomatrix.  What could I do?  I took another deep breath, excused my way past both Atomatrix and the DNN camera man, found my mouthguard, made my purchase and fled.
Situational Shyness Syndrome.  It's a serious problem that seems to only appear around revered skaters and attractive women, doubly so if the revered skater is attractive.  Perhaps I'll make a laminated card with normal things to say to people in conversation written on it.  I can carry it around with me and whip out as needed.  It would prevent me from asking questions like, "if you were an alien, what do you think you would look like?"  (I used to think that was a great question but when I tried it out in conversation I discovered that it actually just makes you seem a little off).  Until then, my shoes and I are destined to remain great friends.  Atomatrix, if you happen to read this please know that you are one of my favorite skaters and I do think you're great.  Maybe one of these days I'll tell you in person.
<originally posted on 1.3.12>