Some things come this close to sucking

You know how something almost happens and by the grace of God it doesn’t? Like maybe when you get this close to getting in a car accident, but at the last minute you don’t?

Well, last Thursday morning on my way to work I was walking down the concrete steps from my apartment in my cute new 3” platform Steve Maddens that I showed you a few weeks ago and I almost went flying. I mean, had I not grabbed onto the railing at the last minute, I would have tumbled head over heels like a friggin’ cartoon character. Except I wouldn’t appear unscathed in the next scene. No, I’d be the woman in the commercial yelling, “Help! I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!”

You know how when someone falls, you want to laugh but you know you shouldn’t so you bite the insides of your mouth and try to pull yourself together enough to clear your voice and say, “Are you okay?” with a straight face? Well, I’m not even sure my little spill would have been funny. Like I might have ended up with months of rehab, and I’m not talking about the type of rehab where you sit in a circle with a bunch of entertaining characters with colorful pasts. I truly believe I came this close to being messed up big time.

Whew.

So earlier this week, one of my blogging buddies, Fragrant Liar, wrote a cute post about her adorable little grandchildren and vacuum cleaners, which brought up a not-so-adorable memory of your friend Linda Lou. (Don’t worry, there’s a connection between these two stories.) You know how you all loved hearing about my embarrassing episode at Panera Bread? Well, here’s a little tale that came this close to being in my Top 10 of “Was My Face Red” moments.

Years ago, I want to say this was in the early 90s, I bought a new vacuum cleaner. I kind of knew it was kind of a piece of crap, but I figured it would do the job, and it did. For maybe a week or two. Then one day it didn’t suck. I must have had company coming or something (because why else would I vacuum?) and I remember being really pissed. And like my mother (and father, too, now that I think of it), the nanosecond something doesn’t go my way, I fly off the handle and start in with “Jesus Christ, what the hell… [fill in the blank].”

So I’m having a friggin’ meltdown. I’m on the phone bitching to the guy at Sears about this goddamn piece of shit vacuum I just bought a week ago and why the hell can’t they make anything decent these days, blah, blah, blah…” and the guy says, “Why don’t you check the hose? Maybe something is caught in there and is plugging it up.”

I answered with something like, “Check the hose? What I am, a friggin’ mechanic?” and then he said, “Well, bring it in and we’ll take a look at it.” I hung up and though I was this close to schlepping the thing across town, somehow… all by myself… I figured out how to take a little piece of the vacuum apart and checked the hose myself.

Yep, I was this close to watching a retail clerk at Sears pull out… my little black lace bikini underwear. This close.