It is really sad that when I sat down to write today’s post I had so many stories to tell I had to set some aside for another time. I have narrowed it down to three stories. Historically two things cause me to make a fool out of myself: my clutziness and BOYS.
Here is a classic me being a clutz story. It was the 90s and I was in college. I was wearing my favorite pair of Gap overalls because well, 90s. Between classes I attempted to quickly use the restroom. In my hurry my overall strap dipped into the toilet water BEFORE I flushed! Eeks! Thankfully it was just pee water but still gross, gross, gross. I rinsed the strap in hot water and left it nastily dangling unfastened and hurried home. Unfortunately ‘home’ was a long journey as I was a commuter student. It involved standing at a bus stop waiting for a shuttle to take me to the commuter lot 10 minutes from campus followed by a 30 minute drive home whilst sitting on a wet strap that had been in pee. Ugh. If there is one silver lining to this tale it is that I never ever wore overalls again!
And now for a story involving a boy. I ran into an ex at a grocery store– first time since our break up. And he was with his new girlfriend. In a situation like that I would hope to be beautiful, confident and breezy. Instead I looked like a hobo. As this was the early 90s and thus the height of grunge, take my hobo assertion literally as I was probably wearing an over sized flannel shirt and combat boots and not a stitch of make up on. We attempted cordial conversation well technically HE attempted cordial conversation. What did I do? I froze. It was the stuff anxiety dreams are spun from. I was standing there holding a head of lettuce and when he asked me what was up in sort of a general and normal way instead of a breezy and general answer I nervously and quite literally replied that I was “buying lettuce”. That would have been bad enough because as you read the buying lettuce remark hear it as an awkward croak cause there was NOTHING breezy being uttered by me. But no it gets worse. He continued to attempt to exchange generic pleasantries with me but I was still literally frozen so when it was my turn to speak like an automaton whose button got stuck, I kept repeating the line about the lettuce. Like I think I said it 3 times. In front of his new girlfriend no less. If the impression I had wanted to leave her with was poorly dressed brainless zombie: nailed it. As soon as I got enough wits about me to extricate myself from the conversation I abandoned my cart along with my infamous lettuce and fled the store!
This next boy story was also humiliating at the time but has a happier ending. Another college story. I was out with a group of my girlfriends at a club. My best friend pointed to an an exotic looking guy–with his curly black hair and deep olive skin he was text book tall, dark and handsome. My friend gushed that she had had a class with him a couple years ago but had never spoken to him. With all of the bravado that comes with having just finished a third Miller Lite I announced I was going to go talk to him as ” I could talk to anyone”. I asked what his name was and she replied Esteban a name I did not question because like I said he definitely appeared exotic. So I tapped him on he shoulder and said “Good to see you, Esteban”. Normally I would have been more cognizant of social cues and would have registered his surprise, but 3 Miller Lites. So I ploughed ahead with the fiction that we somehow casually knew each other. Bad idea. Then he asked the pivotal question: “Were you in my Spanish class?”. Without gathering my thoughts I blurted out, “No I took French, we had a different class together”. He then gently explained that his name is not “Esteban” but in actuality was Michael with the nickname Mickey. Esteban was his Spanish class name, a course he took two years ago. I did the only thing I could do and came clean, we laughed and he bought me a Miller Lite that I definitely did not need. The happy ending is that we actually became friends. But a good reminder that honesty is the best policy!
This was hilarious, I hope these stories have brought you the laughter that they’ve brought me. If you’d like to join in on the fun, link up with Andrea.