You're sitting in a movie theater...

With a guy you've recently met. You knew the evening could have been considered a date, but since you felt absolutely no chemistry, the assumption was that he wasn't either. In lieu of dancing, you opt for a movie because, really, you've run out of small talk.

As Michael Cera once again falls madly in love with a girl who's got baggage (albeit in a fun hybrid of cinema and video games)... it happens. His hand hits the clutch in your lap. Seeing as it's palm up, you quickly deduce that he has indeed just tried to offer you his hand, and mistook your pale clutch as an appendage. You freeze, mind racing as to possible ways of brushing this off... but his upturned hand is there, in your lap. "Ha! What the heck was that?!" you whisper emphatically. Perhaps the embarrassment of mistaking your lump of cell phone, cards, and lip gloss wrapped in leather as your hand will be enough to make him retreat. In response he lifts his hand and bobs it in a, "I'm trying to hold you hand, so put yours in mine," kind of way.

There is no right move in this moment. Saying no or leaving his hand unfilled will result in an hour of a boy 5 inches away from you with his feelings hurt. Holding his hand means that you have to suffer forced intimacy.

You choose to suffer. You fingers interlace, and his thumb drags back and forth along the side of your left index finger. It's supposed to be reassuring, and it normally sends tingles up your arm, but now your brain is screaming that you're being touched, and no matter how innocent it is, you don't like it.

(5 minutes later)

You've been in agony for 5 minutes, when suddenly, things manage to take a turn for the worst. He moves your hand over towards him, so that he can take it in both of his. One hand is intertwined with yours, the other is stroking the back of your hand. You just. can't. take. it.

SALVATION!!! You remember you forgot to put you phone on silent when a character in the movie gets a text message. You whisper out a, "oh shit!" release yourself from his double-hand death grip, and dive your hands into your clutch. This is not the time to be subtle. You make sure that he sees you're putting your phone on silent. It wasn't him, you see, it was that you didn't want to be inconsiderate of others.

Once you put the phone back into the clutch and secure it, you have a choice to make. You make like you're straightening out your skirt, tugging at the ends as if your tight military-inspired t-shirt dress will budge, and you cross you legs so that your torso tilts away from his. Just so that he doesn't get any funny ideas, your hands both move to your right, and you hold the only hand that you feel comfortable with in the whole theater - your own.

Take a big breath, and let it out. You're safe. That is... as long as you make sure that he doesn't walk you home...

Love,
The Awkward Dater