I Was A 20-Something Teen Wolf

"Give me.…A keg.…Of Visine."
"Please."

I think I'm turning into a Teen Wolf.


Hey, some of us go through it a little later in life than others, alright?

And before the one person who watches MTV original scripted programming pipes in, no, I mean the Michael J. Fox Teen Wolf, where a legitimately dweeby, sweaty little dude sucks at everything until PRIMAL, ANIMALISTIC POWER is unleashed by his hormones and he turns into a total d-bag for a semester until he learns to control his shit and matures as a person. Not the version where a tall, skinny, beard-incapable male model with glasses gets mauled by a tall, skinny, sexy-stubbled male model asshole werewolf and turns into the exact same person but who occasionally turns into a werewolf and eats a deer or something.

See, I used to be socially awkward. Not Amazing Spider-Man awkward, but just awkward enough that I would sometimes think being just slightly more awkward could be convenient because it would bump me into the Asperger's range and I'd have an excuse.

But then I grew emotionally. I needed money and I needed to learn how to interact with people, so I took a job where I'd have to do a lot of people-talking. It did pretty well, as a therapy. I knew what I needed, I practiced it, and it helps. Now I can talk to pretty much anybody, at least for a bit, seem nice enough to them, no matter my actual mood, just generally leave a decent impression.

I also try to remain overtly honest so any self-deprication isn't viewed as covering for actual cockiness. I try to agree when people tell me positive things about me, modestly, so that I try to remember they're true things. This … works some of the time? Either I forget and appear to really not believe I'm awesome (usually true), or I agree too readily since it's a habit now, and I come off as cocky (only sometimes true, like 40%.…maybe 45).

The point I'm trying to make is, I'm trying to keep a handle on my douchey-ness and my preternatural manliness, but I'm getting really confused finding long, soft hairs in all my laundry, even the clean stuff. That never used to happen before I started getting girls.

But I don't remember getting that many girls recently, either, so I'm hoping I've just been secretly turning into a Teen Wolf every few weeks and remembering to redress and lock the door behind me when I come home near dawn.

Hopefully I don't eat those two cute deer that live out back.