that other time I stepped in front of a car

I almost got hit by a car today. Not through any fault of the driver's, but because I stepped out of my car, and began to walk through a parking lot while looking down at my feet (something felt weird with my shoes, ok?!). And the thing is, I almost never go to this place for lunch because I know the parking lot to be so busy - the cars speed around trying to beat each other out for the seldom found spot. And yet I still did not look up before stepping out in front of traffic.

And this brought to mind another time when I actually did get hit by a car. And if you are reading this write now you have probably known me a long time and know this story already, and in that case, you can stop reading now. Why don't you check out one of the links instead? We both know you don't want to work. But just in case you don't know, I'll relate it for you now, as best as I can remember.

Once a (not so very long) time ago I was a little college freshman. And one fine fall day (I think it was fall - it could have been spring? It was definitely a nice day in a season when you often need a coat, but on this particular day the sun is out and so are the students and the weather is just perfect.) Anyway, I was leaving the dreaded, hateful engineering computer lab. (Why I hated this particular computer lab so much I no longer remember. But hate it I did. It felt like the kind of place that kills sunshine and makes babies cry.) The point is, I was really happy to be leaving. And what's better is that I was leaving to have lunch. Lunch with some friends! My friend Megan and I were skipping happily out to go meet some comrades at the dining hall.

To reach the dining hall we needed to cross a small street that ran through the campus. It was in the middle of a weekday, right in a prime change-of-classes time, so most of the traffic was foot traffic - and as I said already, there was a lot of it. I wasn't looking at my feet this time, though. We looked to our left, saw a car coming in the distance that we could easily beat, and began our walk before really taking a good look to the right. (It was college, the students acted like they owned the roads, anyway.) To our right was a hill, and coming down the hill at high speed was a guy on a bike. Because I am a polite southern lady (and not a little wench like some people) I stopped in the middle of the street to let the biker glide by, but my so called friend took off at a sprint, attempting the unlikely feat of beating the biker, and also leaving me behind.

The biker realized he was about to collide head-on with my friend (have I mentioned yet that my position made more sense?) and began trying to screech to a stop, and at the same time swerved to avoid hitting her. And what path did this put him in? Mine, naturally. So he and I were staring at each other in the eye, he trying his best to break, and me staring stone-footed, wondering what it was going to feel like to be run over by a bicycle. (Perhaps it would have made sense at this point to move out of the way, but I didn't start this post talking about how smart I am.)

Just as I was bracing myself to be run over from the front, I was hit by a car from behind. Because that car we had seen when we first crossed the street? It had caught up with us. When I've told this story before, I've taken some criticism for standing in the middle of the street, like, "Well of course you got hit by a car!" But in my defense, this car was going REALLY slowly! How could he not see me? And how hard was it to avoid me? I may not be tiny, but I did not take up half that lane. And this was college - there were always kids walking all over the streets - it didn't seem that unusual at the time.

So lucky for me the car was going slowly, and there was no dramatic cracking of the windshield or anything like that, in fact, although it did knock me off my feet, I landed right back on them! (How 'bout that? I am like a cat! Nimble and fleet-footed! Or maybe I'm like Spider Man! I like that even better.) On my feet, but barefooted. One of my shoes was left exactly where I had been standing pre-collision, and the other had flown many yards away. The stdent driving the car pretty much freaked out. He jumped out and grabbed my shoulders and shouted a lot about how sorry he was and hugged me and all that stuff. The whole time I was laughing like an idiot. A shocked, embarrassed, idiot laugh. Students everywhere were staring and pointing and talking. One of my roommates heard the talk from the top of the hill, walked to where she could get a view, recognized me, and came running and yelling at a full sprint. (She sometimes over-reacts.)

Unfortunately, this is not quite the end of the story. Because also on that day? The little old men in their suits with their New Testament Bibles were positioned all over grounds! You know the ones I'm talking about? And you know how cute they are? (I can't help but think that old people are cute. I don't care if it's demeaning. They are.) Well, one of them had been standing across the street with his little box of Bibles, and when he saw me get hit, he immeadiately stepped out into the street to come help me. He stepped out right into the path of another biker racing down the same hill, and poor little man and his Bibles - they went down. Hard.

At least this was what I learned afterwards. I was too self-absorbored to really notice. I mean, I finally walked to lunch (after a nice young man gathered my shoes for me and tried to persuade me that I really needed to go to the hospital, and after I had promised the driver of the car to call him and let him know I was okay), I did notice the elderly man in the suit laying on his back on the street, not looking too well, but what did I do? I walked on by. Still giggling like a freak. And clutching my jacket until someone pointed out that my knuckles were white. I'm a real giving person like that.

Later that day my roommates brought home tales of hearing this story repeated - always amid much laughter. The chain of pedestrian clobbering events that I started. And I did not go to a small school, so this was fairly remarkable. I am glad I could bring some happiness to some people's days.

Afterward:
For a long time after this I had a fear of crossing the street. And even if I was walking down the sidewalk, and heard the sound of wheels behind me (like rollerblades or a skateboard) I would freeze in fear. So that time when I was crossing a street that really was really busy and traffic drove really fast and did NOT stop for students, and you, Andy Zulauf, held me in the middle of the street to face the oncoming cars and did not care how much I screamed?? That was NOT cool. Not cool at all.

tidbits

1) This week my coworker handed me a sheet of paper - when I looked at it, I saw "How to lose 10 pounds in 3 days" written across the top. I said something thoughtful like, "hmm. Well, you let me know how that goes" and tried to give it back to her. But she wouldn't take it - "No, I printed out extra copy for you." "Oh. Thanks..."
I guess I should be used to this stuff by now.

2) I don't watch the Bachelor - Ok fine, I watched one season. It was that Andrew Firestone one. But that was it, I swear. But one night a while back my roommate was watching, and I was walking in and out of the room, and happened to catch this part: a young woman crying into the camera after not being selected to continue and sobbing, "I just can't wait to get home to my cat. She's the love of my life." It was so amazing, I wouldn't have believed it had I not just seen it myself. Did anyone else see this? Maybe I don't know anyone that watches the show, but I felt it was so terribly sad that I couldn't believe I never heard anything about it again. You couldn't go anywhere without hearing about the "my ovaries are rotting" lady* but woman who says her cat is the love of her life goes unnoticed. If I weren't allergic to cats, having a moment like this might be my worst fear.
Oh, one other thing I noticed that night? That girl that won irritated me so much that I couldn't stand to watch the show a minute longer. Technically, I'm not sure that it was really the girl that drove me crazy, or his reaction to her. He would say that he wanted to make sure she wasn't immature, so he would ask her a question, and she would give the most immature answer possible. And he would looked shocked for a minute, and then he would try again with another question. And she would answer in the same manner. And at some point she would have a temper tantrum about not getting enough attention. And I knew - I knew that although she went against everything he said he should be looking for, he would pick her. And he did. All the way through to the end. Good luck, English man.

*When I heard about the "my ovaries are rotting!" moment I went on their website, and attempted to pick the lady out from all the head shots, and I don't like to brag or anything, but I got it right in one pick! She had crazy eyes. I've had experience with these people.

3) Today Bathroom Lady told me that I have a cute butt. Unless BL thinks of "cute" as "big", then I have to wonder if she was drinking on the job today. Or maybe I'm giving too much credit to my butt, because what she actually said was, "those pants fit your butt real cute." So maybe what she meant was for a really unattractive butt, those pants make it look about as good as possible. But really Bathroom Lady, must you be staring at and talking about my butt as I am walking down the hall? Where there are open office doors? Does anyone else get told at work that those pants fit your butt real cute? And also, I took a look in the mirror when I got home today, and those pants did not do anything for my butt.
Have I ever mentioned how we dress at work? People get away with wearing pajamas to work. When I started there, I was true business casual, but I have deteriorated into slob. While some people may go for "professional" or "stylish" I go for "comfortable" and sometimes "something really old that I don't like anymore and don't care if I ruin." I am usual ashamed when I go out for lunch amongst the rest of the population. Anyway, these pants are my most comfortable - and therefore among those that I am embarrassed to be seen in. If Lob's mother had seen me today, she would have asked if it were homeless day at work today. Bathroom Lady talked a lot about how much she liked my pants before she made the butt comment. Is she just making fun of me? Sadly, I don't think so.

Dolly does Australia

A while back I suggested that you guys send me your most embarrassing stories, but I think you must have forgotten, because I have received nary a one. That must be some kind of mistake, right? That's ok, though, because that means I don't have to share mine! It doesn't mean I can't share someone elses for them, though.
ahem. Here's a little tale about my friend, Dolly.

Back in college, Dolly did a study abroad in Australia. (Where, by the way, she has described herself as being "fat and hairy and happy." Apparently, she did not receive the same pressures there that she did back at home at her school of beautiful people when it came to staying thin and eating healthy. Or shaving. And she loved it.) So, one day fat (so she says - but I don't believe it), hairy, Dolly heard about an opportunity to go white water rafting! Except I think they just called it "rafting", and Dolly immediately equated it with her own experience of rafting back at home: blowing up a little float, and taking a leisurely, southern-style float down our local red river. In other words, you lay there in thick muck and slowly paddle yourself around. Any average octogenarian could handle the pace. With this in mind she said to herself, "Great! I'll work on my tan!" and then she donned her bikini.

Well, poor little Dolly had a surprise in store for her. It was called: rapids. This was her introduction to them. I think she must have quickly realized that this was not going to be the trip she thought it was when the handed out the helmets, life-jackets, and went over the life-saving safety precautions. But still not afraid, she boarded her raft with her friend Stacey, two guys they had never met before, and their appointed raft guide. Although she was not able to stretch out and tan herself as she had planned, she was handling herself ok... until a mighty rapid came and swept her away! But never fear! Friend Stacey had listened to the instructions well, and with a cry of "I'll save her!" lept to the side of the raft, grabbed the shoulders of Dolly's jacket and dramatically hauled her over the side of the raft, just as she was supposed to. The only problem was - when you do this, you don't expect the person to be wearing a bikini. As Stacey fell backward pulling Dolly along, that outward rubber-raft barrier grabbed a hold of Dolly's bikini bottoms, and pulled them down to her ankles.

So, there was Dolly, floundering around like a giant fish in the bottom of the raft, trying to pull up her bottoms as quickly as she could. And if you guys have ever been in a raft, you should be able to imagine that this is not easy. There's not exactly a steady surface there to put your weight on, you know? As she described it, it involved a lot of rolling around rather awkwardly. Once she had them up and all her lady-parts once again covered, she assumed her seat on the raft, took up her oar, and began to paddle with her most serious face, as if nothing had just happened. Also? The entire raft was completely silent. (For those of you who don't humiliate yourself regularly and may not know this - sometimes it's better to laugh than to avoid eye contact and pretend like nothing is happening - that just makes it more awkward. I know this for a fact.) Eventually, she made eye contact with Stacey, and the two of them got out a good, long laugh - while the other three men in the boat paddled on quietly.

As luck would have it, this was The big rapid, and you know what happens at The big rapid, right? The rafting company positions a camera man near by so all of your expressions can be captured forever! And then they show everyone a slideshowl of all the photos from all the trips that had just been taken. When Dolly realized this was happening, she confronted the camera man. And one little known fact about Dolly is that when she is REALLY angry (which is very seldom) a thick, thick southern accent emerges out of no where. So what she yelled in his face was this, "If mah butt is own that cam'ra, ah'll DAH!!!" Or, "If my butt is on that camera, I'll die" for anyone who doesn't speak southern.

He must have understood her, because when the photos of her raft came up, there was one of her starting to be pulled back in the raft, and then it skipped to them all sitting in place again. Today Dolly told me that it is one thing to show your ass, but that this was ugly naked. She thinks that she scarred everyone on that trip. But I have to wonder if there isn't someone out there with a few photos that they like to share for a good laugh now and then...