Missy, this post is for you.
How many different things can go wrong in 60 seconds?
Well, lets see.
First off I was a teenager when this happened. That’s “Thing One” right there. There is almost nothing right about life when you are in 10th grade.
It was raining and I chose to wear white. Specifically a white knee length skirt. Not a poodle skirt, but that length and feel. This was back in the 80s and it was soooo cool to wear saddle oxfords, with a white poodle-type skirt. I was also wearing layered shirts. One in electric blue and one lavender. With the sleeves rolled up. And the collar turned up. And I had the socks to back it up. Layered of course! But the thing to remember is the white skirt, that’s (Thing Two)
My mother (who was very cool) was out of commission that day and couldn’t drive her image-concious 15 year old to school, so I had to settle for my desperately un-cool dad. To my 15-year-old mind he was spastic and guaranteed to do the WRONG THING in front of my friends. (Thing Three)
We pull up in front of the school. This was a school where the drop off was right in front of the exposed front doors. No awning, no portico, no shelter and nothing to hide behind. (Thing Four) did I mention it was raining?
Cool kids (I honestly don’t remember which cool kids, but there were some there) were gathered near the front door. (Thing Five)
This is all set up of course, but believe me without some of these the rest of the incident wouldn’t be nearly so bad.
So we pull up in front of the school. I get out of the drivers side. (did I mention I was driving? When learning to drive I grabbed at every opportunity to practice) My un-cool daddy gets out of the passenger side and
He Waves To The Cool Kids. I wanted to die!!!! (Thing Six)
I stalk around to the back seat, grab my book bag, dodge my dad’s attempted kiss NOT HERE DADDY ! and make for the front door to the school. Now here’s where it ALL went wrong.
I recall grabbing for the front door of the school. I KNOW I got my hand on the handle and tried to use my weight to pull it open (the doors were notoriously stubborn) I did mention it was raining, right?
The next thing I know, I am on my back (Thing Seven) with my feet in the air (Thing Eight) and my skirt on my face (Thing Nine) with my panty covered butt pressed up against the GLASS doors of the school (Thing TEN).
I got up. I’m now soaked. I have no dignity left. I stalk around the car to the driver’s side. I open the door. I remove my father from the front seat. I get in. I fume. I snarl. I wait for him to re-enter the car on the passenger side.
By now there are cool people gathered all around wanting to know if I’m okay, or wanting to laugh I don’t know.
I just want to go home. So I start the car.
One problem: the car was still on. (Thing Eleven)
You know that horrible sound a car makes if you try to start it when it’s already on? yup. I made a car make THAT sound after pressing my muddy butt to the glass of my high school front doors in front of half the cool kids in the school.
I tried really hard to convince my mom that my dignity demanded a day home to recover.
She didn’t buy it.