So the other day I got a rug burn. At work.
I'd better explain.
I think I told you I absolutely adore my three coworkers in the little subdivision of our cube farm. Well, Thursday morning out of nowhere I was overcome by a Kumbaya moment.
“I just want you to know, I love working with you guys,” I said.
They all looked at each other like, WTF? and then Mr. Mockery sitting across from me deadpanned, “I wish we could say the same.”
Minutes after my “I love you, man!” outburst, I went to spring out of my seat, except one of my 4-inch Vegas heels got caught under my chair and I ended up taking a nosedive to the floor. We all lost it. I swear, I haven’t laughed that hard since my sister Lori saw Helen Keller’s breast. My only regret is that I wasn’t wearing a skirt.
Just a couple of weeks ago we were all talking about how funny it is when you see someone fall and you're biting the sides of your mouth as you try to appear sincere when you ask, “Are you okay?” Yeah, I know that sounds mean, but admit it—you do it too, right? As long as the person isn’t elderly or bleeding all over the place, seeing someone fall is freakin’ hysterical.
Thanks to the rug burn on my middle finger (a.k.a. "my driving finger"), I was reminded of my fall all day. Every time I looked down at my keyboard, I started laughing again like an idiot. It's okay if you remember something funny while sitting alone in your cubicle, but sometimes the memory haunts you at an inappropriate time, like when you’re in a meeting with your boss or a friend is telling you about somebody who died or has a serious health problem and all you can think is, “Don’t laugh, don’t laugh.”
Terrible. I should be embarrassed, but no--you have to be able to laugh at yourself or you have no right making fun of others.
Lucky for me, I’m a gold mine of material; I have too many embarrassing moments to keep track of. Marching down the hall from the ladies room at GE with the back of my dress tucked into my underwear was certainly a highlight. Then once at my last job a friend made me laugh unexpectedly, causing a string of spit to hang from my lower lip for what seemed to be eternity until it landed on my desk. Evidently I had a pool of saliva collecting in my mouth just waiting for the perfect moment to escape. Thank God I have a sturdy bladder.
At any rate, my new cube mates no doubt think I’m mental. But I am pretty damn entertaining. And that, my friends, is reason #427 why I make an awesome co-worker.