As I recall on these two stories, I can't decide which one is worse. They are very different and both are bad for different reasons. But if I had to choose, which one would I choose to repeat?
A few years ago, when I was still in school, as I walked home from campus, the rain was pouring down on me. The only way I managed to make it home without giving up and just sitting in a puddle was by imagining the wonderful bath I would take as soon as I walked in the door. Oh, even the cold droplets couldn't bring down my spirit as I knew that in just a few minutes, I would be naked and soaking in the hot water.
I arrived in my apartment and was incredibly distraught to find that we were out of hot water. I had already stripped of my clothes and was just sitting on the side of the bathtub in my towel. A lack of hot water was not going to stop me from my greatest dream in that moment. I plugged up the drain and put some pots full of water on the stove. I waited until they boiled and carried them, one by one, into the bathroom. The water steamed and sizzled as I poured it into my porcelain jacuzzi. I made this trip several times, each time reveling in the joy that I would soon be in that water. On my very last trip to the kitchen (in just a towel, don't forget), I heard the only sound I didn't want to. Gurgling. I threw the pots into the sink and ran back into the bathroom just in time to see the last of my hot water go down the drain.
Or.
It was just the other night when I was invited to a semi-formal Christmas party. The only person that I knew was the boy that I was going with and because of the situation, I was a bit nervous. The front door opened and I saw immediately that this was a small dinner party for this group of friends ie. everyone knew each other but me. We were greeted quickly and stepped in from the front porch. As soon as I stepped in, I felt a lack of balance. I looked down at my feet to see that my high heel was stuck in the heating vent on the floor. People were half-circled around us and everyone could see that I was stuck. I tried to laugh it off and play it cool but I needed to get my heel out of the vent! I pulled and nothing happened. Pull again, still stuck. I played it off and just announced that I was going to take my shoes off anyway. I kicked off the other heel and stepped out of my shoes.
I continued to greet everyone at the party, despite my desire to just curl up and die. I thought it would be okay to walk around without my shoes on but as I saw that everyone else was still wearing their church shoes and I was looking silly with the flap on the toes of my tights, I knew I needed those shoes back. I waited for the area by the front door to clear but to no avail. Finally, I just walked over, crunched down and tried to get my heel back from the monster that had been holding it hostage. Pull. Pull! PULL! The high heel came up...with the vent attached. Oh my gosh, I could just die. People are watching me! I had to twist and pry the vent (is everyone imagining what this looks like? The vents that are about 12x and 6x and generally are white with metal slats? are you understanding my embarrassment?) and it finally came off the shoe.
I would like to think that the rest of the evening went off without a hitch but I gotta be honest, I never fully recovered from my opening act....and my second act.
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