Last Wednesday my work softball team's game got rained out, and we decided to 'hold practice' at Hill Country DC. Luckily, Wednesday night is karaoke night, and given my last singing gig, I felt confident enough to take the stage with one of my co-workers. Alas, our bacchanalian softball revelry ended in failure. We didn't even get through one verse before the band sounded the fog-horn of death; signaling the end of our performance. Never have I ever been booed off of a stage in my whole life--not even that time I dressed up as Buzz Lightyear for Halloween. At least I didn't go down alone (Hi Lupe).
I suppose it was a life lesson. I learned that no, I do NOT know all of the words to/one cannot simply wing it for "Bille Jean," and I also learned that it is really, REALLY hard to follow behind the woman who brings the house down with a soulful rendition of "Movin' on Up" -- beknownst to the general public as the Jeffersons theme song. We later decided that getting thrown off-stage was a rite of passage, and that we should be grateful for embarrassing moments so that maybe we can appreciate our victories more. That comforted me for about five minutes until I realized I've publically embarrassed myself with alarming regularity since the moment I learned to walk. Are moments like this really that rare for me? After a few anecdotes, you be the judge:
2006. What was supposed to be a routine high school track meet quickly devolved into an unintentional burlesque show. It was my junior year, and it was rather cold outside so I was quite bundled. I was having a bad day, and so instead of warming up I sat grumpily on the benches with my arms folded, probably listening to 'SOS' because Rhianna just gets me, you know? When it was time to run I was not paying attention, the gun went off, and about 150 meters later I realized that my teammates were screaming at me "Allison! Your shirt!"
Now, just so you know, not having your uniform visible for the officials timing the race is a violation of NJSIAA regulations. Not wanting to disappoint my coach I decided to try and take off the shirt (while running..) and finish the race without the officials penalizing me. I ripped it off, took my whole uniform with it, and threw it away from me. Everyone got a face full of me, and to add insult to injury it was windy and the shirt flew back and hit me in the face. So, not only did I get disqualified, but I was ALSO left standing in the middle of the track without a shirt. Pretty sure that scene did not make it into the yearbook.
2006. Two of my sisters, my Dad, and myself took a trip to Jamaica. One day we were swimming in the ocean near one of those floating ocean trampoline contraptions when I suddenly felt a searing shock through my right leg. I was paralyzed in the water and my sisters had to pull me onto the trampoline. An Australian couple in a boat came out and took me back to shore and offered to pee on me. Not having seen the Friends episode, 'The One with the Jellyfish' I replied with a firm 'hell nah' because I thought the last thing I could have wanted to happen during my final moments on this Earth was for someone to piss on me. Didn't seem helpful. I was taken to the hospital where I received a shot on my ass and had to wait for a few hours for some suspicious pills that my Dad ultimately didn't let me take. All the while there was a bag on the wall that I highly suspected held urine. Apparently I was stung by a Man-Of-War Jellyfish. They have no independent means of propulsion, and so the only logical explanation was that I swam right into it's path..good vacation.
1995. I wanted to win my first grade spelling bee so badly that when it was down to myself and one other person (who ate crayons) I cried and told the teacher my mom would be mad at me if I didn't win--thinking that I could somehow sway the results. Like the boss I was, I swayed those results rull well. The teacher declared that there would be no winner, but rather "co-winners." Needless to say my opponent (who, again, ate crayons) was pretty pissed that he wasn't given the chance to really win--and I walked around like:
The embarrassment came a little while later when I realized that there's absolutely no glory in a tie--and even LESS glory when you cry/lie to force the tie to occur.
So, what do you think?
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