“It’s not 6 p.m. yet,” I reassuringly say to myself, as I run into the house. Beads of sweat break out on my brow, as I quicken my pace. I walk the dog, put food in his bowl, check his water supply and put the radio on for him. I then make a mad dash out of the house and into my car. I have 30 minutes before my scheduled meeting, with my business partner, at Starbucks. That gives me plenty of time to make a pit stop for a slice of pizza.
As I walk into my favorite pizza place, the owner greets me and immediately knows what I want before I even speak a syllable. While waiting for my slice of heaven, I notice the lovely pregnant woman standing next to me with a young boy, who I assume is her son. I smile at her, as I usually do when I see a pregnant mommy-to-be but she barely smiles back. Undaunted, and totally out of character for me, I ask her how far along she is. Like something out of a bad movie, no sooner had the words sauntered out of my mouth when I quickly realized that I had stepped into the proverbial poo. She, colder than Antarctica, responded, “I’m not pregnant. I’m just fat.” She then stated that the only baby she has ever had was born 9 years ago and is standing right next to her. D’oh! My face froze in complete horror. Why, oh why isn’t the ground opening up to swallow me, I wonder. I scramble to apologize, my face burning with embarrassment. Somehow, in my sprint to get out of the house on time, I must have inadvertently opened up a can of stupid.
Where is that dang pizza? I look at the restaurant owner, silently pleading with him in my head, that he hurry with my order so I could leave. As he slowly approaches with my dinner, I barely give him the opportunity to reach me before I lean over the counter, like a wild woman, and snatch the pizza box right out of his hands. The poor man almost lost an arm in my haste to leave the scene of the crime. Chagrined and mortified, I quickly scooted out of there without a backward glance. I peeled out of that parking lot so fast, I’m pretty sure I left my tires behind. Gah! What had I been thinking? Obviously, I wasn’t. I smugly thought that these moments only happened to idiots. Well, color me dumb because I think I just became the president of the idiot club. Hmm…I may want to look into a sensitivity course. Ugh! What would Emily Post say about this?