Naked and Afraid
“She laughs.” Proverbs 31:25
What goes CLICK. Thump- thump, thump- thump…… NOOOOOooooo!
A slammed door, a racing heart, and a chubby, middle aged brunette just realizing she’s locked herself out of the house without her pants on! Oh, it happened!
It was early morning, I had just rolled out of bed and needed to check the sprinklers in the backyard. I stayed calm at first because after all I’ve raised 4 functioning adults, I live alone, so I’m used to MacGyvering things, and I love the game “Worst Case Scenario.” Clearly there was no reason for panic.
No, the panic came when I looked down and saw what I was wearing, a thin white ribbed tank-top, from Fruit of the Loom’s vintage collection, circa 1990, that barely skimmed the top of my knickers.
Now, this is where I might lose some of you “type A” personalities who are reading this. I’m not saying you’re judging, I’m just saying you’re probably wondering “how does a grown woman not know what she wore to bed?” Obviously, you’ve never been under the influence of a sugar coma.
I had been out with my girlfriends the night before. What started out as an innocent cup of coffee after work quickly escalated into “mixed drinks.” It all started when Janet ordered a skinny Latte with cinnamon and a dash of almond flavoring, then Mary shouted “I’ll take a Caramel Macchiato, make it a vinte!” Another gal piped up “coffee on the rocks with a double shot of espresso for me!” I could feel the courage welling up inside me. I felt untethered and daring, throwing caution to the wind I jumped up on the table and yelled “YOLO! Gimme a White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream and dark chocolate drizzled on top, and TWO espresso beans on the bottom!” (which is basically a liquid cupcake). The whole coffee shop clapped, whistled, and threw stir sticks at me! We started a tab. As a group we were making bad choices.
I blame the barista for what happened next. She knew my judgement was impaired before she rolled out the dessert cart.
After that I have no recollection as to how I got home and why there was a stir stick wedged in my ponytail. In my heart I firmly believe if I had just never walked into that coffee shop or been hanging out with the wrong crowd I would not be standing there practically naked, and afraid, in my own back yard. How had my life come to this?
I sat on the back step in front of the patio door assessing my options for re-entry. Ironically, I could see my missing pants through the widow. They were laying right there next to my self-esteem. Unfortunately, I figured out the only chance I had of getting back into my house was using the keypad entry for my garage (in the FRONT yard!). In order to get to the front yard, I would need to determine which set of neighbors could be trusted with this delicate situation. I would be accessing part of their yard, running inches away from their windows.
The neighbors to my left have a small child, a chihuahua, and a security camera so they didn’t even make the short list. I felt it more appropriate to sprint through the side yard of the neighbors to my right. The free spirits raised in the 60’s. The era of “make love, not war!” They compost, have a rain barrel, and work their organic garden at night. It was a no-brainer! I waited until I didn’t hear any cars coming and then made my break to the front yard.
I caught a glimpse of the woman watching me through her blinds. Her grin said “You go girl!” but her eyes said “Amateur!”
Rounding the corner of the house I almost took out the butterfly bush but was able to successfully hurdle the boxwoods and only inflict minor damage to the rhododendron my son gave me for Mother’s Day. My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. I pretended I was Katniss, in Hunger Games.
While waiting for the door to go up I prayed the Peterson’s across the street weren’t anywhere near their large picture window which allows full access viewing to my front yard. Finally, I made it back inside. My fortress.
Well, everything seems to be back to normal now except I haven’t had the nerve to give my neighbors eye contact since that morning. Also, every Tuesday evening at 6:00 pm I see the Peterson’s leaving in their minivan. They have the back end full of soccer balls and kids, but I know the truth, they are all in counseling. There are just some things you can’t un-see.
I’d love to stay and talk but Janet and Mary are picking me up, we are checking out the new coffee shop that just opened around the corner…
Question: Have you ever had an epic fail that you were able to laugh about?