Wednesday, August 04, 2010

Making a Fool of Myself All Day Long


I have stories to share, but I'm lazy and they will take time to write. In the meantime, I'll share a few things that happened to me yesterday that, upon reflection, made me feel like an ass.

Yesterday, I wore a dress that is not incredibly short, but can sometimes lead to flashing if I bend over without thinking about it. I was getting the stroller out of my friend's backyard before taking J to the park and wasn't really thinking about the length of my dress while bending over. When I stood up, an older man was at the next garage smiled at me, waved and said hello. I said "hi" back. It took about five minutes for me to realize he'd probably seen my panties.

I don't think it looked quite this sexy

I had a doctor's appointment at 7:15. It was pointless to go home because I was already so far east, so I drove there straight from watching J. I was meeting friends at 8 for dinner, but that is kind of late so I had brought some almonds along. I ate them as I drove because I figured, while that's not an optimal way to eat, snacking in the waiting room is kind of gross. I randomly glanced over to the right lane and found that the man in the next car had just watched me eat an almond and brush crumbs off my chest. He continued to stare at me like I was an exotic zoo animal. I couldn't figure out whether this was more embarrassing for me or for him. Because even if eating in traffic is somehow bad manners, so is staring.

Then I arrived at the doctor's. I had about 100 big, ugly bug bites on my legs from a trip to Wisconsin this past weekend. My initial reaction was to wear full-length jeans to cover them up, but when I realized how itchy they were, I knew I had to wear the aforementioned dress and let the world see my mottled legs so that I could scratch the bites when absolutely necessary. This was a follow-up visit in part relating to my much-documented cyst removal. The doctor glanced at the upper scar on my back (visible with the dress still on) and said it looked fine. However, the lower scar is the one that had been at risk of infection. He seemed satisfied but I was not, so with no prompting I stood up and lifted my dress up over my ass and lower back and said, "So this one is okay, too? It's not infected?" After a brief pause (what, people don't just constantly jump up and reveal their underwear in your office? How boring for you), he said it looked fine, and also that he would prescribe something for the millions of nasty bug bites on my legs. Upon reflection, I kind of felt like a crazy person. I think I've been to the doctor too much lately; I've gone from "Do I really need to take my shirt off??" to unsolicited flashing.

I drove about five blocks to meet friends for dinner and managed to accidentally honk at a person on a bicycle along the way. What an asshole.

Then I had $1 fish tacos and $3 Tecates with some great ladies. I managed to avoid embarrassment during that, mostly, except for when I realized I was sitting at the loudest table in the bar and nearly shouting about hand jobs. But that's pretty much an average day for me.