There have been few moments of abject humiliation in my life.
There was the one time that I leaped to my feet, shouting "BINGO" at the top of my (perfectly sufficient) lungs in the middle of an auditorium jam-packed with 500 of my peers...only to find that I did not, indeed, possess an actual bingo.
Then there was the moment that I was discussing gender equality with a close friend at a formal party, only to find myself shouting (into the newly created silence of a song change) "But seriously, it isn't about sex!"
But few moments have truly compared with my experience on December 7th, 2011.
A dear friend of mine, one whom we shall call "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken," had invited me out to dinner after having completed my Uni finals (with a 4.0 GPA, I might add).
The purpose of this girl-date was only mildly about my academic success. It was almost entirely focused on an altogether more ridiculous premise...checking out the cute Korean waiter who works at Longview's Ichi 12 Teriyaki.
See? This is ALREADY humiliating...and we're only just warming up.
As I drove up to the restaurant, ""She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" came up to my car to meet me.
She - "He just left!"
Me - "Dang! Oh well, let's go have dinner."
She - "He's right inside Radioshack."
Me - "Shucky darn, I just remembered some shopping I have to do!"
So yes, my "may-be-27-but-acts-13" butt went strolling into Radioshack...as non-nonchalantly as possible. I meandered over to the iPads and became deeply interested. Next thing I know I feel breath on my neck and hear "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" frantically whispering "He's right beside you!"
I look left, and then I look up...and up...and up.
HOLY BUCKET'S O' LARD, BATMAN.
He was tall, handsome, and built like a cross between a rock and a hard place.
I mean...this man was beautiful. Muscles showed through his winter jacket like he was playing Chubby Bunny in his clothes, charisma dripped off of him like honey off Pooh Bear's paws, and that rugged chin of manliness could have chiseled iron...(granted, I may be exaggerating).
Now you might accuse me of thinking shallowly here...and you would be correct. I have no idea what character, moral structure, personal beliefs, or attitudes towards furry, woodland creatures he has...but by grab, that man was one giant hunk o' Korean. So what do I do? Oh yes...subtlety is key.
"Look at this iPad! It's BEAUTIFUL! It's the most beautiful iPad I've ever seen! It's sturdy, attractive, and bigger than the iPod!"
I jest not. In an effort to avoid the typically Rachel move of looking him in the eyes and verbally expressing my admiration (therefore humiliating both the innocent victim and myself-who-can't-keep-her-mouth-shut), I waxed and waned about the iPad. It wasn't long before a very perplexed Korean decided to walk to the opposite end of the store. By this time, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" and I were barely suppressing our embarassed giggles, so I made a bee-line for the exit...
At precisely the same moment that Mr. Beautiful did.
He gave me a look that reeked of suspicion. I knew that I could not let him think that I was following him (which, in point of fact, I was)...so I dedicated myself to reaching the door first. "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" and I burst forth like vengeful angels (because they burst forth so much more effectively than humans) and ran into Ichi 12 so that we could collapse in hysterics about the ridiculousness of it all. It was in this moment that I first started to feel the inklings of embarrassment...
I was plagued with horrible thoughts. "What if he knew that we were giggling because of him? It's not like I was a den of mystery..."
I had just settled back into a comfortable place of laughing and chatting with my friend when lo and behold...Mr. Beautiful comes walking right on into the restaurant. As he slowly moved past our table, I was witness to a look that did not bode well. It was the look of someone who was on to me.
So we finished our meal and escaped to my car. Five minutes of raucous laughter and knee-slapping later, we look and realize with horror that not only is my vehicle pointed straight at the entrance of the restaurant, but the employees are looking out, wondering why we are still sitting there.
Just at that moment, as we stared at the door in dawning realization, Mr. Beautiful walks out...directly into our serious, staring faces.
O. M. G.
If it wasn't bad before...it was officially bad now. So I promptly started my car and zipped around to drop "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" off at her vehicle. Sadly, this was another bad move as I ended up zipping by Mr. Beautiful's vehicle...window to window...in open-mouthed screeching hysteria.
Lord, have mercy on my idiotic soul.
So I drop "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" off and we arrange to meet up at the nearby Starbucks so that we can finally relax and laugh about the utter retardation of the whole situation. I turn around and start driving towards said coffee spot...
Directly behind Mr. Beautiful...
Who notices that I am directly behind him...
And proceeds to pull into the Starbucks parking area.
The abject horror that I experienced at that moment was beyond human comprehension.
I immediately pulled to the farthest parking point from him as I watched him exit the vehicle and all but sprint into the nearby Ross store. I sat in stunned silence until "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken"arrived. We started walking towards Starbucks and freedom from humiliation.
Alas, it was not to be.
To put things into perspective, I would like to remind everyone that...
A. I have been (very) single for nearly 3 years
B. I was hyped on adrenaline from multiple sources (finals completed, Christmas cheer, ladies night out, and extreme embarrassment)
C. I am secretly an eternal idiot teenager
So I cannot be held fully responsible for what occurred next.
As we passed by his vehicle, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" jokingly suggested that I write him a message. Ha ha...yeah right.
Right?
RIGHT?
Wrong.
Idiot Rachel did the worst thing possible in a case of mistaken stalker-dom...I wrote on his window. In the lightly fogged driver's side window I wrote...
I cannot tell a lie. That is precisely what I wrote.
Five steps later and I realized the error I had just made. So I turned around to correct my mistake, only to notice that 10 feet away were not 1, not 2, but 4 police officers eying me like a criminal.
Instantly foiled. So we made our way into Starbucks with the assurance that the minor fog would disappear before he came back out. But as we sat at our table it began to dawn on me that if he were to see it... then I was a sitting duck...framed in a well-lit window...15 feet away from the scene of the crime.
Full-out panic set in.
I made "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" go and give me the all clear as I full out sprinted to my car. From across the parking lot I heard my dear, beloved friend tell me that she was going to write my number underneath the message.
If you've ever seen a snake molt it's skin in .03 seconds flat, you have some idea of the severity of my reaction. Needless to say...no number was left.
I practically dove headfirst into my car with every intention of peeling out of the parking lot. Yet again, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" decided that we needed to stay for his reaction.
Upon reflection, I can see why she wants to remain nameless...YOU INSTIGATOR, YOU! ;)
So we literally pulled our car into a hidden-yet-strategic spot for ultimate viewing secrecy...only not really.
He exited Ross.
He reached his vehicle.
He did a double-take at his window.
Did he smile? Frown? React in fear? Scrub it off? Nope. He just stood there with a look of pure, unadulterated, utter and complete confusion.
Apparently his ability to connect the dots was less than stellar...thank God in heaven.
He then got in car and began to reverse...closer and closer to our not-so-brilliant hiding spot.
What happened next is still a blur...but it involved flinging seats, bottoms, feet, arms, legs, heads, purses, and meal leftovers every which way in an effort to escape detection should he pull in beside us.
Thankfully, he stopped a foot short of discovering us and drove off. "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken"and I breathed a collective sigh of blessed relief and promptly burst into screeching fits of hysteria. We had finally survived our stupidity...
When his vehicle pulled in directly behind mine, headlights to taillights.
My hands went into the air as I started screeching about how I was going to have to tell him everything or die of humiliation and horror and trauma...etc.
Only to discover that it was a pair of old ladies driving the exact Mitsubishi that Mr. Beautiful did.
The moral to this story is that I will always be a complete and incomprehensible idiot.
But at least I'm funny!
I'd like to dedicate the following song to my favorite accidental stalkee...
There was the one time that I leaped to my feet, shouting "BINGO" at the top of my (perfectly sufficient) lungs in the middle of an auditorium jam-packed with 500 of my peers...only to find that I did not, indeed, possess an actual bingo.
Then there was the moment that I was discussing gender equality with a close friend at a formal party, only to find myself shouting (into the newly created silence of a song change) "But seriously, it isn't about sex!"
But few moments have truly compared with my experience on December 7th, 2011.
A dear friend of mine, one whom we shall call "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken," had invited me out to dinner after having completed my Uni finals (with a 4.0 GPA, I might add).
The purpose of this girl-date was only mildly about my academic success. It was almost entirely focused on an altogether more ridiculous premise...checking out the cute Korean waiter who works at Longview's Ichi 12 Teriyaki.
See? This is ALREADY humiliating...and we're only just warming up.
As I drove up to the restaurant, ""She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" came up to my car to meet me.
She - "He just left!"
Me - "Dang! Oh well, let's go have dinner."
She - "He's right inside Radioshack."
Me - "Shucky darn, I just remembered some shopping I have to do!"
So yes, my "may-be-27-but-acts-13" butt went strolling into Radioshack...as non-nonchalantly as possible. I meandered over to the iPads and became deeply interested. Next thing I know I feel breath on my neck and hear "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" frantically whispering "He's right beside you!"
I look left, and then I look up...and up...and up.
HOLY BUCKET'S O' LARD, BATMAN.
He was tall, handsome, and built like a cross between a rock and a hard place.
I mean...this man was beautiful. Muscles showed through his winter jacket like he was playing Chubby Bunny in his clothes, charisma dripped off of him like honey off Pooh Bear's paws, and that rugged chin of manliness could have chiseled iron...(granted, I may be exaggerating).
Now you might accuse me of thinking shallowly here...and you would be correct. I have no idea what character, moral structure, personal beliefs, or attitudes towards furry, woodland creatures he has...but by grab, that man was one giant hunk o' Korean. So what do I do? Oh yes...subtlety is key.
"Look at this iPad! It's BEAUTIFUL! It's the most beautiful iPad I've ever seen! It's sturdy, attractive, and bigger than the iPod!"
I jest not. In an effort to avoid the typically Rachel move of looking him in the eyes and verbally expressing my admiration (therefore humiliating both the innocent victim and myself-who-can't-keep-her-mouth-shut), I waxed and waned about the iPad. It wasn't long before a very perplexed Korean decided to walk to the opposite end of the store. By this time, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" and I were barely suppressing our embarassed giggles, so I made a bee-line for the exit...
At precisely the same moment that Mr. Beautiful did.
He gave me a look that reeked of suspicion. I knew that I could not let him think that I was following him (which, in point of fact, I was)...so I dedicated myself to reaching the door first. "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" and I burst forth like vengeful angels (because they burst forth so much more effectively than humans) and ran into Ichi 12 so that we could collapse in hysterics about the ridiculousness of it all. It was in this moment that I first started to feel the inklings of embarrassment...
I was plagued with horrible thoughts. "What if he knew that we were giggling because of him? It's not like I was a den of mystery..."
I had just settled back into a comfortable place of laughing and chatting with my friend when lo and behold...Mr. Beautiful comes walking right on into the restaurant. As he slowly moved past our table, I was witness to a look that did not bode well. It was the look of someone who was on to me.
So we finished our meal and escaped to my car. Five minutes of raucous laughter and knee-slapping later, we look and realize with horror that not only is my vehicle pointed straight at the entrance of the restaurant, but the employees are looking out, wondering why we are still sitting there.
Just at that moment, as we stared at the door in dawning realization, Mr. Beautiful walks out...directly into our serious, staring faces.
O. M. G.
If it wasn't bad before...it was officially bad now. So I promptly started my car and zipped around to drop "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" off at her vehicle. Sadly, this was another bad move as I ended up zipping by Mr. Beautiful's vehicle...window to window...in open-mouthed screeching hysteria.
Lord, have mercy on my idiotic soul.
So I drop "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" off and we arrange to meet up at the nearby Starbucks so that we can finally relax and laugh about the utter retardation of the whole situation. I turn around and start driving towards said coffee spot...
Directly behind Mr. Beautiful...
Who notices that I am directly behind him...
And proceeds to pull into the Starbucks parking area.
The abject horror that I experienced at that moment was beyond human comprehension.
I immediately pulled to the farthest parking point from him as I watched him exit the vehicle and all but sprint into the nearby Ross store. I sat in stunned silence until "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken"arrived. We started walking towards Starbucks and freedom from humiliation.
Alas, it was not to be.
To put things into perspective, I would like to remind everyone that...
A. I have been (very) single for nearly 3 years
B. I was hyped on adrenaline from multiple sources (finals completed, Christmas cheer, ladies night out, and extreme embarrassment)
C. I am secretly an eternal idiot teenager
So I cannot be held fully responsible for what occurred next.
As we passed by his vehicle, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" jokingly suggested that I write him a message. Ha ha...yeah right.
Right?
RIGHT?
Wrong.
Idiot Rachel did the worst thing possible in a case of mistaken stalker-dom...I wrote on his window. In the lightly fogged driver's side window I wrote...
I cannot tell a lie. That is precisely what I wrote.
Five steps later and I realized the error I had just made. So I turned around to correct my mistake, only to notice that 10 feet away were not 1, not 2, but 4 police officers eying me like a criminal.
Instantly foiled. So we made our way into Starbucks with the assurance that the minor fog would disappear before he came back out. But as we sat at our table it began to dawn on me that if he were to see it... then I was a sitting duck...framed in a well-lit window...15 feet away from the scene of the crime.
Full-out panic set in.
I made "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" go and give me the all clear as I full out sprinted to my car. From across the parking lot I heard my dear, beloved friend tell me that she was going to write my number underneath the message.
If you've ever seen a snake molt it's skin in .03 seconds flat, you have some idea of the severity of my reaction. Needless to say...no number was left.
I practically dove headfirst into my car with every intention of peeling out of the parking lot. Yet again, "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken" decided that we needed to stay for his reaction.
Upon reflection, I can see why she wants to remain nameless...YOU INSTIGATOR, YOU! ;)
So we literally pulled our car into a hidden-yet-strategic spot for ultimate viewing secrecy...only not really.
He exited Ross.
He reached his vehicle.
He did a double-take at his window.
Did he smile? Frown? React in fear? Scrub it off? Nope. He just stood there with a look of pure, unadulterated, utter and complete confusion.
Apparently his ability to connect the dots was less than stellar...thank God in heaven.
He then got in car and began to reverse...closer and closer to our not-so-brilliant hiding spot.
What happened next is still a blur...but it involved flinging seats, bottoms, feet, arms, legs, heads, purses, and meal leftovers every which way in an effort to escape detection should he pull in beside us.
Thankfully, he stopped a foot short of discovering us and drove off. "She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-Because-She's-A-Chicken"and I breathed a collective sigh of blessed relief and promptly burst into screeching fits of hysteria. We had finally survived our stupidity...
When his vehicle pulled in directly behind mine, headlights to taillights.
My hands went into the air as I started screeching about how I was going to have to tell him everything or die of humiliation and horror and trauma...etc.
Only to discover that it was a pair of old ladies driving the exact Mitsubishi that Mr. Beautiful did.
The moral to this story is that I will always be a complete and incomprehensible idiot.
But at least I'm funny!
I'd like to dedicate the following song to my favorite accidental stalkee...
Oh dearest Rachel!! I sooooo needed that after such an excruciating night at work! ROFL Love you!
ReplyDeleteOh Rachie,
ReplyDeleteIt is things like this that make my evenings so much more enjoyable. I am glad that I can now live vicariously through your experiences. Also
"Look at this iPad! It's BEAUTIFUL! It's the most beautiful iPad I've ever seen! It's sturdy, attractive, and bigger than the iPod!"
Yeah from now on when I don't have anything to say I am going to start conversations with that one. Also probably you should figure out a way to stalk this guy from a distance, just cause then he has fewer grounds for a restraining order.
YOU ARE JUST THE AWESOMENEST THING EVER AND I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Thanks for side splitting giggles...xxx
ReplyDelete