The write stuff.

I never thought of myself as a writer.

In fact, in high school, I always thought of myself as a stronger math student than English student.

I don’t know exactly how the SAT’s work now (Number 1 hasn’t taken them yet), but back in the,

ahem,

eighties,

the highest score you could get was a 1600.

800 in Math, and 800 in Verbal.

The first time I took them I got a 500 verbal and a 560 math.

Not very good.

Especially in the verbal part.

So I took an SAT course, just for the verbal section, and then I took them again.

The second time around I got a 630 in the math section.

Not amazing, but respectable. Especially without doing anything extra to boost my score.

And after that awesome course I took for the verbal section?

I got a whopping 490.

My score actually got worse.

So anyway, I didn’t have much confidence in myself in all things verbal.

A few months back, a reader of the blog,

who graduated from high school with me,

and who is very intelligent,

and funny,

and also a dude,

wrote a comment in response to one of my posts.

He called me the Erma Bombeck of the 21st century.

I was extremely flattered.

If you don’t know who Erma Bombeck is, she has been described as “America’s Favorite Humorist,” and as a person “who always reminded us not to take ourselves too seriously.”

She wrote a bunch of books and thousands of columns.

But I didn’t really take that Erma comparison very seriously.

I mean, I know the person who said that, so he was probably a little biased.

It still felt nice though.

Well, on Monday, I wrote this, and I guess a couple people at the Y got a kick out of it.

So some people shared it.

Including one of the trainers, who also happens to be a Lose to Win coach.

So it turned into one of those, “and they told two friends, and so on, and so on…” sort of a thing.

Last night I took 2 back to back spin classes.

There was a 15 minute break between the two, and I just stayed on the bike and kept pedaling after the first one ended until the second one started.

There is a guy who is always in spin class.

He’s also in the Lose to Win program.

Before last night, we had never actually spoken. In fact, I was under the impression that he didn’t like me.

I don’t know why he wouldn’t have since we had never even spoken…

He’s a little older than me, I think.

So I thought maybe he heard my potty mouth or something and I had offended him.

Anyway, last night, during the break he came over to my bike.

He’s a serious looking guy.

Not really smiley.

And he’s big.

Not fat big, but really tall big.

Like 6″3′, I’m guessing.

So this big, stoic dude walked over to my bike, and I was bracing myself for him to tell me off for some reason, and he said, hesitantly, “Is your name Susie?”

I contemplated saying no.

I wasn’t sure where the conversation was going…

“Yes?” I answered.

“Do you write a blog?” he asked.

Oh.

My.

God.

To be honest, this guy is the Sweater, from Monday’s blog.

I thought he was going to kick my ass.

Suddenly I was white-knuckling the handlebars of my bike.

I might have even peed my pants a little.

“Um, yes?” I answered.

“It’s very funny,” he said.

Ho.

Lee.

Shit.

That was not what I expected.

At all.

I guess he’s facebook friends with the trainer who shared the post, and that’s how he came to read it.

But he kept going.

“Your writing reminds me of Erma Bombeck.”

Oh my God.

Again.

Then he told me how he also really liked the Easter basket post.

He had read more than one.

Wow.

It feels really good to hear from women that they can relate to something I’ve written.

That I have produced something that has made them laugh.

But when a guy tells me that something I’ve written strikes a chord with him, or that it’s even funny,

well,

for some reason, that feels even better.

Along with that feel-good moment, I learned something about myself.

I was pretty far off base with my  assumptions about this not-scary-at-all-dude.

I know when I see him in spin class today, we will say hi to each other.

He might even smile at me.

Another reminder to not judge a book by its cover.

To be friendly.

Make the first move.

And say hello to people.

Once you do that, there’s a good chance you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what happens next.

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