E is for Embarrassing Moment #(Oh, I've lost count!)

Well, hello! I can tell by the way you are sitting and looking expectantly at the computer screen, that you are anxiously waiting to learn of yet another of my red-faced moments. Be forewarned - you may want to put down your coffee or other beverage before you start reading.

This is a fairly short story, so I'll try not to drag it out, even though one of my myriad of talents is the ability to drag out a story.

This past summer, Hubby and I were out of town (thankfully) installing gutters. We had finished the first job and were on our way to the second job, when we stopped at some fast food place (maybe Taco Bell - I can't remember!) to grab some lunch. As we pulled in to the driveway, Hubby told me to go get something and he would pull the truck around to the other side of the building.

I quickly jumped out and hurried in, and then realized that he hadn't said what he wanted. It takes me an eternity to decide on something for myself, let alone to decide something for someone else. After hemming and hawing for a while, I resorted to ordering the first thing I saw on the menu. And, because it was really hot outside and our water supply was dwindling, I ordered two large drinks.

Whenever I'm in a hurry or feeling awkward or out of my element (which sad to say, is most of the time) I don't really notice things that should be noticed. So, as I collected our lunch, a bag and a large drink in one hand, and a large drink in the other, I turned to go out the door.

Then the weirdest thing happened. The door I tried to go through was not a door. It was a large, clear wall made to look like a door to confuse old people. I slammed right into that wall like it was no body's business. At first, I couldn't understand why my drink was suddenly smashed up against me and now dripping all over me.

What in the world??? What's wrong with the door? But when the realization hit that the problem was not the door, I wanted to slink down and crawl away. Oh the shame!

The only thing that kept me from leaving immediately was the puddle of ice and cola at the entrance. So, I pulled up my wet, big girl panties - possibly from the spill, possibly not- and told the nice lady at the counter that I was old and ran into the wall, spilled my drink, made a puddle, needed a re-fill, and someone needed to mop up the spill. Then I hurridly turned and left, but this time I went through the door.

My only  consolation was that no one appeared to have see my humiliation, since I didn't see or hear anyone doubled over with laughter. I'm sure the place erupted after I left.

Thankfully, Hubby missed seeing this classic move and having it recorded indelibly into his brain.

As a P.S. - I heard on the news recently, that some old woman did the same thing, and broke her nose. She must have been walking really fast, or had no drinks in her hands to soften the blow. She planned to sue (or already won the suit) for millions of dollars!  Dang it! Why didn't I think of that? Surely my humiliation was worth a million dollars!!

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