When you're with your best friends, this doesn't necessarily apply. What I'm talking about is when you're with someone that you're only kind of friends with, or even worse, when two people are hanging out with a mutual friend, and the mutual friend leaves. You know you have to try and keep up conversation, but just like your failed second grade science fair project, the chemistry just doesn't work. At least with the mutual friend situation you can talk about the friend as common ground, but even that can run dry. "Taylor is so funny. I really enjoy him." "Yeah, I like him too." Congrats.
On the one hand, you are following the rules. You are waiting for the light to change or for the lane to clear so you can cross safely and not interfere with traffic, an admirable decision from a responsible citizen. On the other, your rebellious counterpart is brazenly tempting fate with his disregard for law. Cocky? Maybe. Bold? Absolutely. However, what matters most is the feeling that you incur upon seeing this challenge to your bravery: shame. You don't know why and I don't know why, but this phenomenon is so common that Urban Dictionary has defined it as "curb shame." I guess good guys really do finish last.
There is an unwritten rule that if you didn't hear what someone said to you the first time you can only ask them to repeat it one more time. After that you simply have to just smile, nod your head and pray that they didn't just ask to borrow $20. This situation usually occurs with someone who speaks quietly, but if you're also hard of hearing? God help us. God help us all.
Remember that episode of Seinfeld where George's fiancée Susan starts hanging out with George's friends, and he gets upset because all of a sudden his "worlds are colliding?" Oh you don't because you're 13? Well in any case, this is a similar issue. School/work and real life are separate entities and should therefore be treated as such. It's implied that when you say "Bye, see you Monday!" at the end of each week, what you really mean is "Bye, I'm now going to be with the people that I hang out with by choice, please don't ask me to go to staff happy hour!". At least if it's a coworker, you can probably bond over how much of a jerk your boss is, but if it's your teacher? I don't know, maybe you can talk about polynomials or something.
Face it, there was a time when you cared about chain messages, "like for a tbh" statuses and what your Chinese name is based on your initials. And your 12-year-old self posted about it...a lot. Getting that visit from the Ghost of Facebook Past each time one of your cheeky friends resurrects a particularly damaging memory is nothing short of humiliating. Tbh, maybe you should delete your account.