Sometimes, I think about the zany things that have happened to me in my life, and all I can think is, “This is totally going to be a chapter in a book someday.”
Often, I get that feeling when everything seems to be going wrong–humorously wrong.
Take this morning, for example. Not only did I see the sunset for the first time in months (unwillingly, I might add–darn Daylight Savings) and run out of syrup for my waffles, but I tore a hole in my nylons just as I was heading out the door.
Easy solution–yank that skirt down a few inches little lower. Problem solved.
Then, I took two steps out the door…and promptly sank my stiletto heel into the wooden slats outside our apartment complex.
I twisted my foot left and right, to no avail. Clearly, this little problem wouldn’t be solved so easily.
I bent over and grabbed my ankle, teetering precariously on one high-heeled foot as I tried to extricate myself from what was sure to be an early morning wipeout that awoke the entire apartment complex and set our neighbors’ dogs howling.
Instantly, I was transported back to the 18-year-old version of myself.
Back when I was a senior in high school, I once got stranded and left for dead when I got my heel stuck in a city grate in downtown Minneapolis.
Fine, that may be a small exaggeration. There aren’t wolves or ravenous grizzly bears roaming the busy metropolitan streets of the Twin Cities, after all.
Well, unless you count the lecherous people coming out of clubs at 3:00 am. It is, after all, the only place in the world where I’ve ever been punched in public–by a strange drunk man.
But that’s another story for another time.
This particular heel-sticking incident happened while I was leaving dinner with my senior prom date, DJ. We’d dined with a large group of friends at a posh restaurant in the heart of the city, and we were headed back to our cars. I was strolling down the street when suddenly I felt a tugging on my foot.
Looking down, I saw that my strappy black shoe was firmly stuck in a large metal grate.
I pulled my foot and yanked my leg as hard as I could, but I was seriously cemented in that grate. As I’m quite the prankster, I suspect my friends thought I was joking around when I suddenly directed all my attention to the grate. They kept walking, leaving me alone in the middle of an urban jungle, with twilight fast approaching.
That’s when the first of the vampires appeared.
Had you going for a second, didn’t I?
Really, my friends did keep walking until I hollered with enough righteous anger that some of them turned to look. My valiant date obediently came trotting back to me to help me. His laughs quickly turned to consternation, as he couldn’t easily yank my shoe out of the grate, either.
He ended up having to get down on his hands and knees to pry that sucker out of the grasp of the metal carnivore. Fortunately, it provided quite the photo opportunity to all of my friends: DJ on his hands and knees on bare concrete in a tux, proudly baring my heel in one triumphant fist, and me teetering on one leg in my flowing silk dress.
It was a humorously unfortunate moment that echoed my morning today…except I had no knight in shining black fabric at my beck and call, ready to sacrifice his expensive trousers to save my rhinestone-encrusted stiletto.
So, today, I got down on my knees and pried my shoe out all by myself.
Oh, the joys of growing up.
At least this wasn’t as bad as the time I was at a party in high school, playing a fast-paced round-robin ping-pong game with a bunch of my guy friends. On that highly embarrassing night, I caught my jeans on the corner of the ping-pong table and ripped them straight across.
Thank goodness there are no pictures of that.
Oh, well. Even on the most unfortunate days, I still have a sense of humor.
And when I write that book someday, I greatly look forward to the opportunity to laugh at myself and all of the unfortunate scrapes I’ve gotten myself into….over and over and over again.