Leaps and Clowns

Have you ever done something embarrassing but no one witnessed it? It’s the funniest thing because your body temperature rises instantly, you begin to panic, but then it hits you.

“Oh, crap. I don’t think anyone saw.” But I’m a pessimist, so that’s impossible. “Someone had to see. C’mon, I just knocked three bottles of spaghetti sauce off the shelf…then slipped on it.”

Then I‘m even more embarrassed because I think everyone around is only acting like they didn’t see anything - as if they think that’ll make me feel better. But it doesn’t. It’s something about not knowing that bothers me more than the actual mishap. I can‘t help thinking, “did they see it?” Honestly, I’d be happier if everyone stood over me and laughed in my face. At least I’d know.

But nobody could’ve missed what happened to me a little while ago. I was in the living room and I had to get something from my bedroom. So I jumped up from the couch and ran through the kitchen towards my closed door. Actually, I didn’t start off running but then I remembered I left my ice tea in the room. Then I sped up when I thought, “THE ICE IS MELTING! AND I DON’T WANT THAT CLEAR LAYER ON TOP BECAUSE IT TASTES REALLY WATERY!” And for sake of imagery, I have long legs so my running is close to the gallop of a camel.

So, with my hooves clopping through the kitchen, I stuck out my right hand to turn the doorknob. I anticipated a running Turn-n-Open maneuver, so I didn’t slow down. Precise execution of The Turn-n-Open requires moderate hand/eye coordination.

I missed the knob entirely and slammed into the door.

And my door isn’t real wood but rather that faux, hollow crap that’s really loud when someone knocks on it. Now imagine me knocking on it…but with every bone in my body.

Kris was laughing so hard that drool was pouring from her mouth. Then I tried to laugh with her, but I was too mad at myself. How did I miss the Turn-n-Open? I’ve done it a million times. Thoughts like that were running through my head while Kris’ annoying laugh echoed in my ears. It’s sounds like a cross between a barking seal and a 6 year-old girl having an asthma attack. Excruciating.

Just the other day, I’m in St. Rose College’s cafeteria sitting in a booth by the window. The place is crowded with dozens of 70 year-old women in nun outfits. I would just say that they were nuns but I’m not sure. Anyway, I’m in the booth feeling more out of place than the black dude on CBS’ “Survivor.”

***Observation***
You probably know, but Survivor is a reality show where only one person gets a million bucks after a series of challenges and voting. Sorry, but no black person is getting off any island with that kind of money if 11 other white people have something to say about it. I don’t understand why black people go on reality shows...especially dating reality showes like "The Bachelor." They're as anticlimactic as a rabid pit bull would be in a room with a blind kitten.

***End of Observation***

So I’m looking out the window where there’s about 7 steps that lead into the building I’m in, and I look the other direction and there’s a guy riding his bike. I think nothing of it. Then I realize he’s by himself riding in circles 50 feet away with a crazed look in his eyes. I look at the steps again and think, “Oh, hell no.”

He’s thinking, “Dude,IcouldDoIt. Dude,IcouldDoIt. Dude,IcouldDoIt.” Suddenly he speeds toward the steps on his bike and the closer he gets, the more scared he looks.

I was thinking, "DamnHeGon'Die. DamnHeGon'Die. DamnHeGon'Die."

But his better judgment must’ve been on sabbatical because this guy was not slowing down. And he wasn’t riding a top of the line mountain bike made from some space metal with brakes and shocks adapted from Land Rover’s safari vehicles. No. He was on some $80 Huffy from Toys R’ Us with tennis balls in the spokes.

I look at him, hoping he makes it because I don’t have the daytime minutes to call 911. And this idiot looks at the steps, hoping he makes it because he doesn’t know the number.

20 feet away. He’s still pedaling.
15 feet away. I’m laughing already.
10 feet away. A nun asks me to be quiet.
5 feet away. He closes his eyes and hopes for the best.

There’s no surprise ending to this story. He didn’t make it. Actually, he was so far away from making it that he would have been closer if he’d tried it hopping in a potato sack.

Amazed he was still in one piece, he was thinking, “DudeI’mAlive! DudeI’mAlive! DudeI’mAlive!"

He looked around, ashamed that his Wiley Coyote moment had ended in failure. After standing there for a moment, he realized that no one saw.

He smiled.

His brilliant antics were witnessed only by one black dude behind a glass, surrounded by a troop of 70 year-old nuns.

Ignorance really is bliss.