••• Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Shop, Drop and Run Like Hell
Yesterday after work, I went to Best Buy in search of a Play Station for my son. As I strolled an aisle, I noticed a tangling around my ankles, then felt myself going down. Thanks to an instinctive hop forward, I somehow avoided a Double Twist Triple-XBox face plant. But when I turned to learn the cause of the trip-up, I was mortified at the view.
For this was no trip up. This was a bona fide slip down.
As in, my slip. Down. On the floor. In the X-Box aisle. At Best Buy.
The same slip I slid under my skirt that morning, predawn.
The same slip that slid around my ass all day, protecting my visual virtue, and laying waste to the mother puckers of static cling.
My slip. Right there. Lying aplomb and abandoned, in a near-perfect circle. Appearing as though its resident had most recently and promptly been plucked to heaven, by the long arm of the Lord.
Tangent Warning: I may have mentioned at some time that I have the ADHD. The manifestation of ADHD symptoms sometimes reads like a bad news/good news story. For example a bad news story about impulsivity would be reflected in your credit card bill, after a few wee-morning EBay rounds of I-Will-Have-That-Yarn-Bitch-And-You-Will-Not.
Said game is not to be confused with a slightly different, slower burning EBay sport called Because-It’s-No-Longer-About-the-Yarn.-Bitch.-Hell-I-Don’t-Even-Want-the-Yarn.-In-Fact-I’m-Going-To-Pay-Extra-For-Overnight-Delivery-Then-Burn-The-Box-Upon-Arrival-Because-It's-Not-About-The-Yarn-Anymore-It's-About-The-Game-And-Winning-Dammit. ::Admit it, you’ve played this.::
Anyway…The good news story about impulsivity is that it can be helpful in facilitating a creative and quick response in light of an embarrassing predicament.
End of Tangent.
After recognizing that the puddle of undie belonged to me, I quickly assessed the witness situation and determined that no one noticed the intimate shedding. There were, however, some customers hovering near.
So I kept on going. Down the aisle, around the bend. Play the Gameboy. Round the bend. Down the aisle. Sniff a cell phone. Put it back. Down the aisle. Round the bend.
Oh. What's this? Lingerie? On the floor? How odd.
Without looking to see who was looking to see and with the speed and deft of a mother’s slap, I snatched the errant underling, stuffed it in my coat pocket, clicked past the greeters, nodded twice to Have a great day and Thanks for stopping. And no one was the wiser.
Do you think we need bras in heaven or are we permanently uplifted?
Yesterday after work, I went to Best Buy in search of a Play Station for my son. As I strolled an aisle, I noticed a tangling around my ankles, then felt myself going down. Thanks to an instinctive hop forward, I somehow avoided a Double Twist Triple-XBox face plant. But when I turned to learn the cause of the trip-up, I was mortified at the view.
For this was no trip up. This was a bona fide slip down.
As in, my slip. Down. On the floor. In the X-Box aisle. At Best Buy.
The same slip I slid under my skirt that morning, predawn.
The same slip that slid around my ass all day, protecting my visual virtue, and laying waste to the mother puckers of static cling.
My slip. Right there. Lying aplomb and abandoned, in a near-perfect circle. Appearing as though its resident had most recently and promptly been plucked to heaven, by the long arm of the Lord.
Tangent Warning: I may have mentioned at some time that I have the ADHD. The manifestation of ADHD symptoms sometimes reads like a bad news/good news story. For example a bad news story about impulsivity would be reflected in your credit card bill, after a few wee-morning EBay rounds of I-Will-Have-That-Yarn-Bitch-And-You-Will-Not.
Said game is not to be confused with a slightly different, slower burning EBay sport called Because-It’s-No-Longer-About-the-Yarn.-Bitch.-Hell-I-Don’t-Even-Want-the-Yarn.-In-Fact-I’m-Going-To-Pay-Extra-For-Overnight-Delivery-Then-Burn-The-Box-Upon-Arrival-Because-It's-Not-About-The-Yarn-Anymore-It's-About-The-Game-And-Winning-Dammit. ::Admit it, you’ve played this.::
Anyway…The good news story about impulsivity is that it can be helpful in facilitating a creative and quick response in light of an embarrassing predicament.
End of Tangent.
After recognizing that the puddle of undie belonged to me, I quickly assessed the witness situation and determined that no one noticed the intimate shedding. There were, however, some customers hovering near.
So I kept on going. Down the aisle, around the bend. Play the Gameboy. Round the bend. Down the aisle. Sniff a cell phone. Put it back. Down the aisle. Round the bend.
Oh. What's this? Lingerie? On the floor? How odd.
Without looking to see who was looking to see and with the speed and deft of a mother’s slap, I snatched the errant underling, stuffed it in my coat pocket, clicked past the greeters, nodded twice to Have a great day and Thanks for stopping. And no one was the wiser.
Do you think we need bras in heaven or are we permanently uplifted?
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