One of those days…

by Cate on April 6, 2008

A recent post on The Food Whore’s site had me cracking up… unfortunately, I could completely relate…

I stopped by the grocery store Tuesday morning and took a nice fall just outside my car. Nothing serious – I just sort of shut the door on my coat and went to walk and got jerked back and kind of fell into my car. But I got twisted a little in my coat when I tried to get my key in the door (no remote locks on The Car, thankyouverymuch) and then sort of got unbalanced on my shoes slipped down the side of my car to my knees.

I looked around to see if anyone was watching and tried to play it off by hollering, “Ha ha – April Fool’s!” God I am an idiot.

And I say that not because of that nice little display of embarassment, but because when I got in the store I knocked over a bag of flour and a nice white cloud blew all over the aisle. Mr. Shelf Stocker had a great laugh at my expense and told me not to worry about it and laughed at me – a lot. I was laughing, too. Kind of rolling my eyes and mocking myself. Until he said, “Besides – don’t feel so bad. My co-worker told me some poor lady just bit it out by her car. So your day really isn’t going so bad.”

And my “God I am an idiot” story?  Even though it happened a good 15 years ago, I still remember it like it was yesterday.  It truly was one of those days.  Although I shared the story in a comment on her post, I thought I’d share it here too … brutal embarassment loves company, right? 

Many many years ago, the memory still plagues me.  I left my apartment on a blizzard cold day and walked up this little hill to the adjoining parking lot to my car.  The hill, unfortunately, although bearing a good six inches of snow, had a sheet of ice on top.  I thought “no biggie, all will be fine.”  I made it halfway up the hill (and I use the term hill very loosely) and fell flat on my arse.  Did I mention the hill is right at a traffic light?  And this was rush hour?  What a fine show indeed for everyone sitting at the red light. 

I picked myself up, looked at the ground, cursed at it for making me fall and continued on my way.  And.  Then.  I.  Fell.  Again. 

Finally made it to the other side and looked back, proud at having shaved that 0.13 seconds off my walk to the car by walking across the hill instead of using the freakin’ sidewalk.  And then I saw it.  My beeper (yes, folks, remember that long-forgotten era before cell phones?).  A small, but bold little black blob sitting there in the gleaming white snow, surely smirking at me.  From the middle of the hill.  Yes.  I now had to go walk back on the sheet of ice to retrieve my beeper.  Surprisingly enough, I made it to the beeper in a completely upright position.  Bent down.  Picked it up.  And wiped out.  Stood up.  Fell again.  Ahh to hell with it, I said as I crawled my way back to the top of the hill on my hands and knees, figuring at this point, any dignity I had left had long left the building.  Nice new tear in my black skirt, a scraped up and bloodied knee … such a glorious start to the day.  But look at it this way … imagine all the laughs I gave the cars watching the whole show!

Go on and share your embarassing story, so I’m not the only one hanging out here.  You KNOW you have your own story to share.  :)

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{ 3 comments… read them below or add one }

Sarah April 6, 2008 at 9:15 pm

Hmm . . . there are so many.

Perhaps one of the most embarassing things happened just a few years ago. I’d whipped up some fresh blackberry lemonade for my son’s baptism luncheon. Everything was perfect – cooking was done ahead, everybody was having a good time . . . ‘cept one thing.

I forgot an ingredient in the lemonade.

And it wasn’t just any ingredient. It was the sugar.

Of course it took me over an hour to figure out that I was serving my guests essentially pink lemon juice.

Yea, shining moment.

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Nikki Jean April 7, 2008 at 12:10 am

Although I can relate to one of those days, I’d rather share a story from my mother.

One day she was painting the outside of a house. She was standing on a make shift scaffold (a fold up ladder and a piece of wood, which happened to hang off the edge of the ladder), when she spots a wasp. Knowing she’s allergic, my mom runs away from it; not remembering that the ladder ends before the piece of wood. She steps on the end of the wood and the other side smacks her in the butt. Her legs become entangled in the rungs of the ladder while her head in a bucket of aquatrol.

Looking back, she probably would have taken the wasp sting.

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sizzle April 7, 2008 at 2:27 pm

That is so something I would do. I fall down ALL the time. Like when I missed a step while walking through the busy quad at college and fell down the stairs into a very unattractive pile. Yeah, totally not obvious at all.

;)

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