Believe it or not sometimes my children aren’t the most embarrassing people in my life, I do pretty good on my own too. What can I say, when you take high levels of gullibility and add sleep deprivation to a person who is generally not the quickest on the uptake you would have, moi. To put it plainly, if you want to get ahead in a pyramid scheme and need people to fill your lower brackets, invite me to your party! I’ll even bring dip.
Anyway, here’s a story that begins mildly embarrassing and ends deeply humiliating, enjoy.
When I was pregnant with Tilly I went through some god awful morning sickness and the only think I could choke down was mall sushi. For some reason when everything else smelled like poo to my sensitive nose, mall prepared cheap-o sushi was da-BOMB! I would walk through the mall every time I had class and spent a small of fortune somewhere in the neighborhood of maybe $50 that semester, all of it to feed that craving. The place I usually went did not have soy sauce packets instead they put the stuff in little jello shot containers. Convenient for dipping, but they did not hold together well in a book bag.
One day I packed one into the side pocket of my school bag and walked across the street to class . Not surprisingly it came open and leaked out the mesh pocket, dripping through the lobby, the elevator, down the hall, and all the way to class. Of course I didn’t notice. I remember thinking “gee, it smells good in here… kinda like soy sauce” then I took out my snack, reached for my sauce, and realized what had happened. Only like 10 minutes after everyone else in the class. I was slightly embarrassed but, hey no big right? I decided I couldn’t eat sushi without sauce, no way. No sauce might induce random preggo vomiting and that would be a little awkward.
I decided to race out the building and across the street and grab some sauce from a nearby Chinese food restaurant. I thundered panting through the door and noticed an Asian woman, she was the only person in the restaurant. So of course I ran up and asked “Can I have some of your soy sauce?!” She looked a little confused and replied “I don’t work here.”
Oh hey, maybe that was why she was seated at a TABLE holding a MENU! Maybe every Asian person in a Chinese restaurant does NOT work there. Maybe the ground could have swallowed me so I could disappear and accidentally racially insult a group of tunnel dwelling gnomes!!! Uh no, that didn’t happen, I waited for the hostess to come out took my soy sauce and hauled ass out of there.
That is the end
I have the most awkward endings to stories, I’m sorry but if you’re looking for some sort of moral behind the tale I got nuthin! Well maybe this, I can be an idiot and it is very often incredibly embarrassing for myself.