There’s Clearly Something Wrong With Me

On occasion, I embarrass myself. On very rare occasions, I’m embarrassed even though nobody is looking. Case in point: last night.

I was taking a shower, and realized that I had left the towel on my bed. For some reason, I decided that waiting until the impending conclusion of the shower was too late, and that I needed the towel waiting for me in the bathroom. Taking five steps mid-shower was clearly the most attractive option. Taking those very same five steps post-shower would just not do.

So there I was, walking those completely innocuous five steps, completely naked and soaking wet, on a slippery floor. Three steps into my journey, I fell. Hard. I did a toe plant into the baseboard and knee plant on the floor. My momentum actually slid me a few inches. Fortunately, those few inches were actually in the direction I was headed. Otherwise, I’d have been really pissed.

But this isn’t the bad part. People fall, and that’s OK. What I’m having trouble living down is what I said afterward. Now most people, when faced with this particular set of circumstances, will say something like, “fuck,” or “shit.” That’s pretty normal. What I said was, “No! I don’t like this!” What the hell is that? Who says something like that? I mean, isn’t it kind of obvious?

I swear, I think I’m this close to introducing “drat” into my vocabulary.