Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: Embarrassed (07/19/07)
TITLE: My Friends Won't Call Me Grace
By Charla Diehl
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As a child my dad often said “I was like a bull in a China shop.” In other words, I wasn’t very graceful. I was usually the one who spilled my milk during supper, tripped over things or accidentally broke things. But if it weren’t for the clumsy people, how would we be able to rate those blessed with elegance!
When I was a teenager my mother and I stopped at Burger King for lunch. While mom waited in the car, I went inside to place our order. With hot crispy fries, char-grilled burgers and beverages packed safely in a bag, I body slammed into the extraordinarily clean glass wall. Fortunately the only thing hurting after that was my pride. Mom was cracking up in the car when I approached the family Chevy. No matter that I was dying of embarrassment--she had tears rolling down her cheeks from witnessing this comedic display.
A few years later , I performed a top ten on the clutzmeter. I was hurrying down the subway stairs so I wouldn’t miss my train headed for Chicago. I tripped and rolled down several steps, but then I sprung up like a weed after a rain and rushed for the train.
Once outside in the bright morning sun, my fellow business school students looked at me and suggested I go home. My shredded pantyhose were bunched up around my ankles. A bruise was already visible on my shin bone and tiny drops of blood were dripping on my destroyed stockings! I was so focused on making the train, I was unaware I had hurt myself. As people began to stare I retreated to my car. I envisioned myself standing studiously awaiting my train, unaware that my “Leggs” looked like I had been wrestling with a tiger. It was then that I began to laugh at myself quite heartily.
Okay, here’s one more embarrassing moment I’ll share with you just in case I need to prove my point on this topic. Have you ever been victimized by the invisible speed bumps in your office? On this particular day I was working in the church office and my ‘trip’ hurled me head first into the plate glass window which I bounced off of, fell into my co-workers desk and finally was laid to rest on the carpet between her desk and the window. As she watched this scene unfold she was yelling things like, “Oh my gosh! Are you all right? Let me help you up!”
Now the co-workers down the hallway came to see what all the commotion was about. I assured them I was only suffering from embarrassment. Truth be told, I had a bruised hand, a lump where my head connected with the window and a rug burn on my arm. My long sleeves kept them from noticing and making a fuss. This time I planted myself in my chair and laughed off another incident in my diary of terminal clumsiness! Yes, laughter is good for the soul--even if occasionally bruises my pride.
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