Pride goeth before the fall

When you read the paper tomorrow and think you've seen me before only I was driving through town with green hair, wrapped in a plastic, see-through shroud ... yeah, that was me.

Today, I woke up with a pounding headache. A dozen things happen and I keep forgetting to take Excedrin for Migraines which is the only thing that seems to work. Anyhow, 11:30 am finds me still in jammies and a robe and I am stripping 25 years of polyurethane off of a cupboard door when I suddenly remember a letter I HAVE to overnight. CRAP!

I rush to the bedroom and jump into clothes. I yank a comb through my hair and rush out the door to the post office. I finally make it to the front of the quarter mile long line only to find out that I have filled out the form wrong (actually grabbed the wrong one) and so must stand to the side and fill out the right one. When I finish, again, the lady says sorry she's going to lunch and directs me over to the other window and of course that person who I am behind is mailing fifty billion boxes to Kookamonga.

As I leave the building, maybe slightly muttering, a woman stops me. Will you comment for Daily Astorian's something or other column? I look at her stunned. My head is still pounding. I blame what happens next on the pain. She says, "It won't hurt, it is a painless question!" So, okay, what harm? "Were you ready for the pay increase in the postage stamp?" I respond, "Yes, and I blame it all on the District Attorney, Josh Marquis!"



No! Of course I didn't say that. I only wrote that for the hits when people google his name. I actually muttered something equally stupid. "Yes, I was ready." Because I was thinking she meant mentally prepared. See, that's how my mind works. I was mentally prepared. I just wasn't physically, in the sense of the boyscout motto, prepared. So then I hastily added, "I was just lazy." Now, since people who are going to read that in the paper weren't in my head going through the thought process with me they are going to read my comments and say, "What a moron. Who do they pick to answer these questions? Why didn't she comb her hair. Why didn't she just say no when the reporter asked her to respond to a question?" Whenever I see people in the paper with their hair disarrayed saying stupid things I think, "Why did they let that happen?" Well, because we are morons who can't say no.

She says, "Can I get your name?" Honest to God, this time, I replied, "Esmeralda" and she wrote it down. I almost went ahead and finished it with "Smith" but I couldn't. I said, "No, that was a joke!" She wasn't amused. I sighed and told her Carrie and spelled it for her. She then asked my last name. I paused big time. She said, "WELL?" I am thinking, maiden name? Married name? Grandmother's maiden name? "WELLL?" Fine, and I tell her the dang TRUTH! ARG! I am an idiot! She's probably going to use the crappy full body shot now. Like the head shot was any prize. Hair blown all over the place, standing in line balancing my mail from the PO box and writing out the forms, head pounding, no make-up. ACK! End of my day of idiocy? Oh, hell no!

I go to my next stop, Astoria Builders Supply to get more paint. They want $110 for a five gallon can of eggshell exterior latex. I am not going to pay that. Well, the nice man tells me that they do have rejects that might be cheaper. We go out to the warehouse and there is five gallons of grey exterior for $25. I'll take it. I also take 1 gallon of green and 1 quart of light green. I think, I am so friggin brilliant I'll just mix this with the four gallons I have at home and come up with a phenomenal color that no one else in the neighborhood has (or probably wants). As the man is shaking it up I finish picking out the rest of the items on my list and go to the front check out where the hand truck with the paint is waiting for me. A different clerk rings me up and I pay. There is a line of people behind me and the clerk calls for customer service. The man that helped me pick out the paint comes up front to help out. At first I thought he was going to help me and so I stand to the side of the hand truck but he goes over to the other check out stand. I think no big deal, I can handle it and announce, "I'll just take this."

Now, I have been around hand trucks most of my life. My father was a "van foreman" and my parents owned City Transfer and Storage, agents for Allied Van Lines. "Skin grows back, wood doesn't" was the family motto. I can pack a storage unit so tight that if you removed the unit the boxes would still be in perfect place. Consequently, I put my foot on the bottom and expertly flip the truck back. In one hand I had the handle of the hand truck, in the other my purse and the bag with the rest of my purchases. In one FLUID motion the top quart of paint flew up into the air, landing just under my foot, lid off, the paint following in a rainbow arc. I completed my stepping down motion which flipped the can, spilling the rest of the paint onto the ground. I then skated through the paint and proceeded to do a triple toe axle, landing on my back and coming to a spinning finish with a paint angel. TAH-DAAAA!

I hopped up as quickly as my body would allow with the assistance of a rather startled young man who had been watching the performance from behind me. There was dead silence as everyone just stared at me. "Are you okay?" both of the clerks blurted at once. "Yes, yes. I'm fine, just fine!" When I related this to my son he said it reminded him of a bit from Dane Cook's latest cd, Retaliation, where the guy just got struck by a vehicle and when everyone asks him how he is he replies, "Fine, I'm fine. Has anyone seen my shoes? I just kicked them off in a fit of joy!"

There didn't seem much I could do to save my dignity, really, so I just started laughing. A few joined in with me. A few acted as if they didn't see it happen. How do you not see that happen? A butterball just did a triple axel followed by a backflip in a pool of green paint at the checkout stand and finished it off with a paint angel! It was beautiful. I wish to God I had been watching it!

One lady said, "Oh, thank God your laughing because that was the funniest damn thing I ever saw! If someone had only gotten that on tape you'd win America's funniest home videos." The clerk who had not yet even cracked a smile and was somberly mopping me and the floor up with a few blue shop towels motioned up to the security camera, "Oh, we got it ALL on tape!" The lady was excited to close the deal, "See, you've got it made, you won't have to paint your own house again for a long time!" I hastily reply, "My dignity is worth a hell of a lot more than $25,000. I will never sign a release form. No one ever sees that tape. I want it mailed to me." The clerk, who never laughed and had expressed only concern so far replied, with total seriousness, "I think we'll be watching that in the break room for quite a long time."

The mess was too big to wipe up with the roll of blue shop towels leaving me with the remaining option of being wrapped in plastic to keep the car clean while quickly driving home with my green hair covering my red face.

SIGH! And I was worried about what picture Tryan might post? If I see this on YouTube I will cry. Otherwise, I guess there's not a whole lot one can do but laugh. Oh my aching head and butt!