La La,
WOW. I wish we had spoken this morning for our regular morning chat. This perhaps would have thrown off my morning, and I could have avoided this unique experience.
I went to the gym. After wards I decided to quickly run into Walmart to exchange a picture frame that was damaged when the cashier packaged up my purchases. EASY quick in and out I am thinking.
On the drive over I decided my sports bra needed to be removed.It was digging into my side. So at a traffic light, I put to task the college learned skill of removing my bra with shirt still on. I still have the skill, I can proudly say.
There I am in the long line of returns at Walmart. Exactly 11 people in front of me. And one motorized wheelchair. I am not clear what happened exactly. I was busy attempting to figure out if my ringing phone was text, email or call? When I did look up I saw, the “lady” in the motorized wheel chair and the man in front of her clearly in a heated exchange of words.
I could not hear at first, and then I COULD. Apparently she ran over his heels with her buggy. And did not apologize. At which point he said, “ you fat ass, you almost killed me”
Her reply was “move your ass out of my way”
He turned around and poured a gallon of orange juice on her.
WAIT it gets better.
The guy behind the motorized wheel chair lady takes a few steps, swings at the OJ man. BUT misses and lost his balance and FELL on the oversized buggy babe. When he was on his way down he hit his chin and his mouth started to bleed.
Now the lady in screaming “ You &%*(@ get off me. MY LEGS MY LEGS you broke my legs” at the guy who defended her. Now the guy who poured the OJ on her is laughing. And by now the daughter of motorized buggy babe has returned from buying cigarettes and gets involved. She throws a fist at the OJ guy. NOW Walmart's A -Team security is involved. And someone calls 911 for the bloody guy.
The older man behind me says “ My money is on the fat lady, they always win” Which was not funny at the time, but now, that’s funny to me.
Keep in mind I have the broken picture frame, no bra, running shorts and the phone is buzzing and beeping to the annoyance of everyone around.
All 11 people are taken to a holding area because the Mayberry gang said we all witnessed the incident and it needed to be documented .The Walmart break room was their choice. Fancy.
The motorized lady is sticky and her "my eyes are burning, my eyes are burning,and my legs are broken" was shipped in an ambulance.She was screaming both statements over and over.
Man behind me said ” that woman has so much meat on her, there ain’t no way a skinny little Mexican can break her” I didn't know whether I should nod in agreement or pretend I didn’t hear his statement?
And the OJ guy was taken to the manager’s office.
By the time they got to me, at the back of the line, they could care less what I had to say.
And when I was asked, “have you ever been convicted of a felony?” For some reason I replied with
“ convicted, no”. I meant it to be funny, but my timing was off. Officer James just arched his brow at me.
As the Sheriff said “ it’s not like we found the second sniper in Dallas. It’s a bunch of white trash, low class people shopping at Walmart. It’s a daily occurrence”
Yep..No bra, running clothes, glasses, and a broken picture frame make me a card caring member of the white trash gang. SWEET.
OH how the mighty have fallen. My days of Lord Taylor cashmere, perfectly coiffed corkscrew curls, and fresh makeup is long gone. Branded white trash . NICE!
**Footnote: Because I know you will ask, I DID have a sweatshirt on over the tee shirt.
THIS is dedicated to my dear married in NJ, La La. Her spirit and spunk and friendship are a blessing.
With a shout out to JB.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Walk of Shame
There was a time in my life where drinking was more of a career choice then social gathering activity. Many an evening in my early 20's consisted of any form of alcohol and a group of good friends. The after math of such gathering ranged from headache to the severe of waking up on a street in NYC. During these evenings out, the morning would arrive all to fast, and most often with a tale or two my actions or my willingness to participate in others events.
Now that I reached my 30's I can say I have moved past these types of evenings. I know now the importance of limitations, or in general that my poor liver has endured enough damage and cannot tolerate my behavior. Occasionally, I find myself on the fence believing that I am in fact still that 20 year old with a 20year liver. And the outcome consists of me swearing off all alcohol.
One story, of my past adventures in drinking came back to mind Friday morning. Years ago a dear friend was throwing a Holiday gathering. This was disguise wording for Christmas Party so that all the Christians, Jewish Faith, Kwanzaa Faith and friends with no faith at all could revel together. Or drink together as this situation would have it.
I don't recall the events leading up to the outcome. I am sure it involved beer and vodka. I do however vividly recall waking up in male soccer short and a random bar tee shirt, next to my dear friend La la. She also appeared in similar fashion. Later to we were told we were given the clothes to sleep in because we were to drunk to go home. Finding our party clothes posed somewhat of an issue, so we left in our soccer short, and bar tee shirts. Our footwear consisted of black cowboy boots for me, and red patent leather pumps for her. We were a vision. It was December. Our coats were with our clothes. Shorts, tee shirts and odd footwear are how we appeared to the world on NYC.
Leaving the doorman operated building she whispered to me " Oh Sully we are so doing the walk of shame right now" it was the first I had heard the saying, and inquired it's meaning. "Well, its when you leave the next morning. In worse shape then when you arrived. And 9 times out of 10 some guy was involved " OHHH, I said.
Over the years this conversation would be retold numerous times.
HOWEVER on Friday morning I had an innocent walk of shame. If such a walk exists.
After an innocent evening spent at a guy friend’s home, I had to depart in the early morning. So early in fact I decided while attempting to sleep that I should just stay up and not sleep. Made sense at the time. At the 4:45AM hour I very quietly sled out of the warmth of the bed leaving my host breathing softly next to me. I made my way quickly and quietly out of the house. I decided changing into street clothes was not important. My current pajamas would be fine for the two-hour car ride home.
As I got to the front door, I had visions of that Holiday Gathering Party and the conversation in the elevator .I was in fact doing a walk of shame, without the shame? My how life changes as you age. Here I had spent an entire night next to a great, smart, adorable, funny, caring guy and all that happened was my leg touched his kneecap? CLEARLY, not even first base. And yet in the back of my tousled curls forming an "I just had sex hair Do- but didn't", and makeup-smeared face, I am thinking what just happened?
I stood there for a moment thinking, well here is a difference between NY and Florida. In NY everyone sees you performing your walk of shame. In FL you can very quietly, as I was proving, slink out of the house and no one is the wiser. Except you and your bedmate. I think I even giggled. With my new found walk of shame confidence and in my PJ's, barefoot, I hurried down the long driveway.
At the end of the drive way, I walked into an older grandfather type walking his Bichon Frise’ dog, dressed in a blue sweater. The dog, not the man. I think both of us were surprised to see each other. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. From head to toe. MY heart stopped, and my mouth flew open to the dropped jaw position. And I was all of a sudden painfully aware that my white shirt was in fact see thorough. Sexy perhaps to host, but not so much to grandpa.Or to my host I realized...
Since it was Halloween, for some reason at 5AM I wished him a, "Happy Halloween". At which point the dog started to happily dance round my feet. Dogs, old people and kids love me. There is no accounting for awkward timing.
" Did you have a good time"? He asked as I quickly fumbled my keys into the car lock.
I just smiled. And looked at him from over my shoulder. Desperately putting the trunk key into the car door in error.
"I guess you did,” he said as he walked his little marshmallow hued fur ball.
I sat in the car for a few moments attempting to access the situation. I had spent the night, nothing happened, and here I had still been subjected to the judgment that something HAD happened. Innocent or not innocent, a walk of shame is a walk of shame.
Moral of story, it would have been worth it if I had slept with him!
Now that I reached my 30's I can say I have moved past these types of evenings. I know now the importance of limitations, or in general that my poor liver has endured enough damage and cannot tolerate my behavior. Occasionally, I find myself on the fence believing that I am in fact still that 20 year old with a 20year liver. And the outcome consists of me swearing off all alcohol.
One story, of my past adventures in drinking came back to mind Friday morning. Years ago a dear friend was throwing a Holiday gathering. This was disguise wording for Christmas Party so that all the Christians, Jewish Faith, Kwanzaa Faith and friends with no faith at all could revel together. Or drink together as this situation would have it.
I don't recall the events leading up to the outcome. I am sure it involved beer and vodka. I do however vividly recall waking up in male soccer short and a random bar tee shirt, next to my dear friend La la. She also appeared in similar fashion. Later to we were told we were given the clothes to sleep in because we were to drunk to go home. Finding our party clothes posed somewhat of an issue, so we left in our soccer short, and bar tee shirts. Our footwear consisted of black cowboy boots for me, and red patent leather pumps for her. We were a vision. It was December. Our coats were with our clothes. Shorts, tee shirts and odd footwear are how we appeared to the world on NYC.
Leaving the doorman operated building she whispered to me " Oh Sully we are so doing the walk of shame right now" it was the first I had heard the saying, and inquired it's meaning. "Well, its when you leave the next morning. In worse shape then when you arrived. And 9 times out of 10 some guy was involved " OHHH, I said.
Over the years this conversation would be retold numerous times.
HOWEVER on Friday morning I had an innocent walk of shame. If such a walk exists.
After an innocent evening spent at a guy friend’s home, I had to depart in the early morning. So early in fact I decided while attempting to sleep that I should just stay up and not sleep. Made sense at the time. At the 4:45AM hour I very quietly sled out of the warmth of the bed leaving my host breathing softly next to me. I made my way quickly and quietly out of the house. I decided changing into street clothes was not important. My current pajamas would be fine for the two-hour car ride home.
As I got to the front door, I had visions of that Holiday Gathering Party and the conversation in the elevator .I was in fact doing a walk of shame, without the shame? My how life changes as you age. Here I had spent an entire night next to a great, smart, adorable, funny, caring guy and all that happened was my leg touched his kneecap? CLEARLY, not even first base. And yet in the back of my tousled curls forming an "I just had sex hair Do- but didn't", and makeup-smeared face, I am thinking what just happened?
I stood there for a moment thinking, well here is a difference between NY and Florida. In NY everyone sees you performing your walk of shame. In FL you can very quietly, as I was proving, slink out of the house and no one is the wiser. Except you and your bedmate. I think I even giggled. With my new found walk of shame confidence and in my PJ's, barefoot, I hurried down the long driveway.
At the end of the drive way, I walked into an older grandfather type walking his Bichon Frise’ dog, dressed in a blue sweater. The dog, not the man. I think both of us were surprised to see each other. He looked at me with a raised eyebrow. From head to toe. MY heart stopped, and my mouth flew open to the dropped jaw position. And I was all of a sudden painfully aware that my white shirt was in fact see thorough. Sexy perhaps to host, but not so much to grandpa.Or to my host I realized...
Since it was Halloween, for some reason at 5AM I wished him a, "Happy Halloween". At which point the dog started to happily dance round my feet. Dogs, old people and kids love me. There is no accounting for awkward timing.
" Did you have a good time"? He asked as I quickly fumbled my keys into the car lock.
I just smiled. And looked at him from over my shoulder. Desperately putting the trunk key into the car door in error.
"I guess you did,” he said as he walked his little marshmallow hued fur ball.
I sat in the car for a few moments attempting to access the situation. I had spent the night, nothing happened, and here I had still been subjected to the judgment that something HAD happened. Innocent or not innocent, a walk of shame is a walk of shame.
Moral of story, it would have been worth it if I had slept with him!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
