caution ballroom dancing

Life doesn’t come with warning signs

I choose to think of my life as full of adventure and not peppered with tragic chaos and misfortune.

Yesterday presented another wonderful reminder that, yes, I am still subject to gravity and the elements.

[If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you’ll remember this gem: #MyEmbarrassingLife]

Background:

I was wearing my Lucchese’s. (This is relevant, I promise.)

I needed lunch, so I left work for the nearest restaurant row with a mission of getting a juicy burger and salty fries. Halfway to the burger joint I felt an invisible dietary reprimand. I changed mental course and determined that I would dutifully go to my favorite salad place, just next door to—you guessed it—burger central.

Here’s the thing. The lunch crowd notoriously ambushes the salad bar, leaving little room for latecomers. I showed up earlier than normal with the hope that I would beat the long lines.

Alas, every ravenous cubicle inmate packed out the narrow eatery. How did they beat me?! I blame them for what comes next. (Hey! Healthy people. I blame you. I hope you enjoyed your kale.)

Confession:

I had already made a mental pact that if the salad line was longer than my morning commute, then I would cave for the burger. (That’s the only sensible thing to do, right?)

Result:

I moseyed on over to Burgerville and made a grand entrance.

I’d like to think that I have some grace and flexibility, but now I have definite doubts. I guess the soles on my boots are hypersensitive and hydrophobic.

To make a long story short (too late!), I ended up doing something like this:

caution-wet-floor-funny-signs-3

Okay, not quite. But thankfully I caught myself and didn’t end up doing the splits.

Conclusion:

The first thing I did after regaining my composure was take a bow. Just kidding.

I immediately did damage control by analyzing the eyes of the crowd. Apparently the burgers were good enough that I had no audience. I’m only a little disappointed.

Mostly relieved.

In my defense, there were no neat neon signs warning me about impending aquatic danger.

Inherent legal ramifications aside, I was reminded of one big lesson:

Life doesn’t come with warning signs.

Bonus (for your viewing pleasure):

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