Lunch was a good workout at Curves, then a quick drive to my regular 7-11 for a steaming cup of hot Dark Mountain Roast.  Yes, nothing says, “workout cool-down” like hot coffee, don’t you agree?

Included in my purchase was a bottle of Vitamin Water.  Energy, at that.  As I walked toward the coffee area, bottle of Vitamin Water in hand, gravity got the best of me, AGAIN.  Slow motion – you know how it goes.  The moment when you realize the drink leaves your hand… slowly, slowly it tumbles, flips and lands with a CRASH on the floor.  Only your bottle would remain intact.  MY bottle, however, burst open and SPUN.  How does a non-carbonated bottle of water burst and spin??!

I stood in utter disbelief.  Vitamin water had poured onto the floor, seeped under the counter and then literally sprayed across and down the entire aisle.  We are talking a good 20 foot spill, if not more.

To my great misfortune, there was a line of people right in front of me with nothing better to do but stare.  Not even the “I’m going to glance for a minute and look away” kind of stare.  This was, “I am looking at a moron who just spilled a drink across an entire floor and I’m not ashamed to stare” kind of stare.

One of the two employees came up to me with her angry eyes on.  I said, “I am SO SORRY.  If you get the mop, I will clean it up!”  She silently walked to my favorite employee, Miss Caroline, who had her head down reading a manual.  “Someone just spilled a drink all over the floor.”  Without a moment’s hesitation, Caroline shook her head in utter disgust, still looking down.  I meekly said, “It was me?”  When she looked up and saw who it was, she shook her head even more.

She brought out the mop and let me at it.  Big mistake on her part.  While tending to the huge line of people, who are ALL STARING AT ME, I tried to figure out this mop-bucket contraption.  I am a hardware tech – I can figure this out, right?

Well proudly, I did.  GENTLY lift the dripping mop, place it in the little box and push the handle to squeeze out the water.  Easy!  Mop, Mop…. A little more confidence… Mop Mop.  Time for more water, up goes the mop – quick as lightening and then….wait for it, wait for it….

SMACK! SPARK!  I HIT THE LIGHT ON THE CEILING AND IT SPARKED!  I mean a real, white electrical flare came out of that light.  Then two adult men across the aisle started saying outloud to the store while POINTING AT ME, “She is going to break the light!  Look at her!!!  She is going to break that light!!!”  THAT was the moment my insides shrunk to the size of a pea.  Flushed face, beating heart, I held my head down and mopped, mopped mopped. Done.  Let me OUT of here.  Ring Ring!  Ring Ring!  “Oh Hi Mom!  Oh, I’m mopping the 7-11 floor right now…”  Her final words to me?  “Only my daughter…”

If they put the security tape on YouTube, I am in trouble.

Summer in our area usually equates to a good afternoon thunderstorm at least once a week.  Last week I was running some tickets with one of my co-workers when a huge thunder and lightening storm descended upon us.  Fortunately we were nice and dry, with all of our jobs residing in one location in a connecting building.

When it was time to go back to our desks, the storm was at it’s peek.  We began to walk through the crossover that connects the main building to the covered parking garage.  The crossover was dark as the clouds emptied their contents on to the cars below.

All of the sudden a huge flash lit up the hallway and I startled, first somewhat jumping to the left and then to the right.  Picture if you will, Spiderman attempting to first move to the left of a villain, and then to the right – finally standing still face to face with the enemy – arms spread wide.

There was a great silence, and then hysterical laughter next to me.  My co-worker, through coughs of extreme and guttural hysterics then spewed out, “Oh NO Katherine, they turned the LIGHTS ON!”

Yes, you got it.  We were walking through the crossover that temporarily had the lights off.  When the lights turned on I BOLTED, first to the left, then to the right, then froze in the middle – my brain telling me a huge flash of lightening had hit RIGHT NEXT TO US.

My buddy laughed all the way through the crossover, through the garage and into the office, where of course the story was shared by all.  How humiliating.  It is times like these when one can only laugh at one’s self.  Startle much?

My friend’s phone volume is set to loud, so I was able to hear the voice on the other end.  A deep, husky man’s voice for sure.  But a bit into the phone call I began to hear my friend answer slowly and articulately, “Yes ma’am.  Yes ma’am.” 

I looked at him questioningly.  In his southern drawl he relayed this story: 

“Well, he started to ask me questions about my surgery.  He asked if I knew what time to be there.  I said, “Yes, sir.”  He said, “I’m a WOMAN.”  I said, “Yes, ma’am,” and then continued to answer her questions.” 

Such finesse!  Such style!  Such recovery!  If only I were so good.  In the meantime, I have to get back up in my chair.  I fell out laughing! 

Now, for your Friday viewing pleasure.  This little boy is all that and a bag of chips.  Just TRY to watch this without smiling!

So here I am in all my glory.  Apparently one of the boys had TWO highlighters in TWO different colors in their pocket.  The pocket that belonged to the pants that went in the washer and dryer.  And made the back of my shirt neon orange and yellow.  That I wore to work.  All day.  FAIL!