I fall down. A lot. Well, not anymore, but I used to. So much so that when I told my bro-in-law that I wanted a motorcycle, he laughed and said, “If you can not fall down for two years, I’ll consider supporting that idea.”
My sister’s favorite fall down story happened a while ago, in my first year at Ohio State:
I was enrolled in Theater 101, a general education credit that required students to attend two productions performed by the college’s theater department. They offered the option of ushering at the theater in return for a free ticket. At the time, I was pretty poor. No job and all. So, I decided to take them up on their offer. They had some caveats though. You had to come early and you had to wear a waiter’s uniform (you know: the black pants, white shirt get up). I could handle that.
The day of the show, I had been in classes all day, and decided to make a stop at Target (because I didn’t have the appropriate white shirt for my ushering duty that night) and then stay on campus until I had to be at the theater at 6:45.
All was going well. I went to Target, bought a shirt and a bra that wouldn’t show though, then went to McDonalds to kill some time. While I was in there, it started to rain. Heavily. Not a problem, I thought to myself. I’m riding the campus bus anyway.
A couple of minutes later, I boarded the bus to head on out. In the 10 minutes it takes to get around campus, it got dark. So now, I’m on the bus, with my book bag, my Target bag, there’s a thunderstorm, and I realized that I had no idea specifically where the theater was. I hadn’t really been to West Campus before.
I had the brilliant idea of getting off the bus when everyone else did, thinking that they were all headed to the theater and I could just follow them there. I disembarked and within seconds I was drenched. I followed some people up this steep grassy slope. At the crest, I saw to my dismay, they weren’t going to class, they were going to the massive parking lot. Ummm. Oops.
Okay. Options. I saw a big sign which I assumed would be a campus map, like the ones they have all over the Main Campus. I trudged all the way across the parking lot and, no. No map. I looked around. I saw a man running to his car.
Me: “Excuse me, can you tell me where Mount Hall is?”
Man: Pointing across the main street but seeming very unsure, “I think it’s over there.”
He walked away and I thought, “If you don’t know where it is, just say so. Harumph.” And then I walked towards a different building, which would have been not very far if it weren’t torrentially raining. Nope. Greenhouse or some such nonsense.
Crap. Now it’s getting late. I’m going to miss “Usher Orientation.”
I walk back over to the parking lot. For some reason, the lot is sunken in. You have to walk down these steep grass embankments to get to the paved parts. Well, you have to if you’re trying to take a short cut anyway.
I decided to look at the only other building on this side of the street. To get there, I’ll have to walk through the parking lot. Again. So, I take a short cut. I’m going to be late, you see. I start walking down the embankment in the far corner of the lot. As I’m heading down, I see a puddle at the bottom. Eh, I’m wearing boots. No problem.
I take a step into down into the puddle. Instead of splashing a little water on my boot, my foot keeps going down, down into the knee deep puddle. Because I wasn’t ready for this depth, I start falling forward and yell, “Shhhiiiiittttt!” My book bag goes flying, as does the Target bag with my new white shirt and matching brassiere, and I fall, all of me, into this dirty bath of rain water and parking lot run off.
I push myself up out of the miasma, grab at the floating (thank GOD) Target bag and finally decide to head the way I was directed.
Sure enough there it was. I get into the building and run to the little girls’ room. I changed my shirt and took off my socks, but was stuck with the soaking pants. I tried drying them off a little with the hand dryer, but they were black, so no one was the wiser. I checked in to usher, did my job and watched the show.
I can’t remember if the show was good. I was freezing! When I got up to leave, I looked back to see a huge wet spot on the chair I was sitting in. I took the bus home in my freezing semi-soaked clothes and no socks.
The moral of the story? Don’t listen to my instincts. They suck.
what's with you and falling down because of a theater class? remember the time when you improvised being a drunk driver in high school and fell off your chair so that everyone in class could see up your skirt? that is a classic moment i will never forget.
Posted by: j.mo | July 26, 2005 at 08:28 AM
Oh yeah, there's a day etched in my brain. I think my face is red right now just thinking about it. On the plus side, I did get an A in that class.
Posted by: C Ro | July 26, 2005 at 08:53 AM
Or when you bit it in the middle of the street for no apparent reason. No obstructions, no inclement weather, not even any booze was involved. You just seemed to decide to sit a spell in a downtown intersection. My apologies for laughing.
Posted by: Muffin | July 26, 2005 at 12:34 PM
Oh Muffin, I'm planning on a whole separate post about Cute IT Boy and the many times I've embarrassed myself in front of him.
Posted by: C Ro | July 26, 2005 at 01:11 PM
Well, keep me "posted" (ha ha, I'm HI-larious) because I don't want you to forget any of your awesome Cute IT Boy stories.
Posted by: Muffin | July 26, 2005 at 01:18 PM
Since I was included in the byline, I thought I should add some additional comments. More GREAT falling down stories include:
1-Chicago on a lovely April day, C Ro completely collapses. We don't realize she is not with us for a few moments. Simulaneously we look back to find C Ro on the sidewalk. (no alcohol involved at this incident)
2-SleazeFest after much alcohol C Ro wipes out onto a gravel walk tearing up her knee. (Ask about the scar)We later find her passed out during the SCOTS set.
Please know, I only post these to provide more discussion to C Ro's affliction. However, I think I know the cause and cure for these episodes. The platform/clog shoes C Ro insists on wearing. She has not been trained to handle the extra 1 1/2-21/2 inches. Refer to the "Never buy shoes at Target" entry. Love ya
Posted by: KaTnLEX | July 31, 2005 at 02:09 PM
Ooohh. I can't believe I forgot about the Sleazefest incident. I'll get right on that one.
No way, totally not the shoes. I swear!
Posted by: C Ro | August 01, 2005 at 08:23 AM