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 | Blogs > Whatsherface > WhatsTheBeef? > Klutztomania |
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Whatsherface
5/15/2008 7:39 am |
Some days I should remain on the stage or dance floor and not get off it. One of my dance partners, J, used to wonder how such a graceful dancer on stage can be such a total klutz off it. The number of times he had to carry me to the nearest clinic, bandage my wounds and massage my bruises ... well, the ever-patient and long-suffering J would just roll his eyes at me and nag me to be more careful. If there is a manhole left uncovered, you can bet your life I would be the idiot falling into it. If there was a loose piece of scaffolding threatening to collapse, it would be right at the moment when I am walking under it. Calamity Jane should have been my nickname. Most people who do not know me find that hard to believe. For some reason they assume I am rather ladylike and graceful. Until they know me and realise I am a walking accident-waiting-to-happen and quite bloke-like in attitude as well. Today, I should have just stayed in bed. I woke and decided I was going to be all ladylike and feminine today. Since I only had business meetings and no classes to teach, I could eschew my usual work-out gear and dress like a real girl. Out came the little sun-dress and my hair was let down. So, there I was in a cream and red halter sun-dress, gold loop ear-rings, neutral makeup that takes hours to look like you do not have any makeup on (how contrary are we girls, eh?), bright red lips and golden slippers. Tres feminine. Tres delicate looking, even to my jaundiced eye. So off I went to a lunch meeting. My lovely associates brought me to an Indonesian restaurant as a nod to my lineage. Cool, I was just craving for rendang. Then I remembered the rendang at this restaurant is atrocious. Darn it. Ever the gentlemen, the blokes drew my chair out for me to sit in. I perched myself primly on the plastic chairs and realised I was too far from the table. So I tried to adjust my chair closer. GRRAAAAAPPPTTTTHHHHBBBBPPPGGGRRRR! The obnoxious, grating scream from the rubber-clad legs of the chair against the marbled floor was so loud, everyone turned to look at me. Egads, I wanted to disappear into thin air. My tablemates were too polite to laugh but I could see they were killing themselves with silent laughter. Then the food came. Grilled chicken in a special dark, sweet sauce with curry rice. I felt my drool accumulate in my suddenly ravenous mouth. Conversation faltered as we dug in. Bugger, this chicken is kinda tough. Delicious but tough. The cutlery is a little wonky and thin too. I applied more force to pry the succulent meat from the bone. And a piece of chicken whizzed past me in a whir of dark and furious motion to hit the wall behind me. We all turned to see a hapless piece of grilled chicken slide tragically down the whitewashed walls, leaving dark brown skid marks that looked distinctly unappetising. I looked at the blokes. They looked at me. We all looked back down at our food and pretended it wasn't there and we had nothing to do with it. But I could feel the burn of the skid mark's accusatory trail of shame on my back and shoulders. I blessed my genetic makeup that makes it impossible for me to blush. I spotted one of the guys' shoulders shaking suspiciously and shot him a narrow-eyed look which he studiously avoided. Then I reached for some spicy deep fried fish and as I was ladling some onto my plate, my dangling gold bracelet got caught in the sauce and I ended up with a bright smear of red on my forearm. I looked like I just tried to commit suicide. The obliging bloke sitting next to me managed to control his giggles as he quickly broke open a roll of wet towel to wipe my arm. I felt like a kid getting cleaned up by his dada. After that the meal proceeded without any more humiliation. Until we got to coffee. This time it was not my fault. Kind of. They served the coffee in traditional, thick china cups and saucers that preserve the temperature of the beverage. Brilliant, I thought coffee might wake me up from this clumsy stupour I seem to be under. So I stirred the condensed milk collated at the bottom of the cup with the red plastic spoon. Gently. Very gently. And the cup shattered, spewing coffee everything. Even managing to cause one flying spurt of coffee to land in my eye. So I was tearing in one eye and everyone is in panic stations. The long-suffering bloke next to me took out another roll of wet towel and started wiping my eye while blowing into it. My eye, that is, not the towel. If someone had taken a picture of us at that moment, I think it would have looked terribly incriminating. Many minutes later, all is calm again and I have one red eye. Amazing, my dress remained unsullied and my makeup is still intact. Wow, MAC products and UDPP are amazing stuff. The restaurant is completely beside themselves and apologised profusely, writing off our bill and promising to host us for another meal on the house. Mr Hero next to me insisted I go to the doctor despite me telling him I was fine once I removed the contact lens and the smarting eye will recover quickly since it was just a tiny drop. But the man had a hero-syndrome if ever I saw one and it was a cantankerous, one-eyed WHF and nagging hero who went to the clinic where the doctor told me the same thing. By the time I returned back to the apartment, I was convinced I am cursed in this godforsaken country. I booked a flight out for Saturday. Lord, please protect your extremely clumsy and accident prone soldier of misfortune from further harm till I can get out of here. Amen. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people. |
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5/15/2008 8:18 am |
Reminds me of the time I skipped down the steps of the back entrance of our law school to meet up with Paul, who was waiting for me by his car, when I missed a step and went tumbling down with all my books flying helter skelter. Thank God I was wearing jeans. Sprained my bloody ankle, too. I'm REALLY beginning to suspect we were separated at birth. David had a car accident today--friggin taxi driver already saw him turn the corner at an intersection but the idiot didn't even slow down, so of course David got rear-ended, and slammed his car in between 2 electric posts, deploying the airbag and God-knows-what-else, totaling his transmission and giving him second degree burns at the back of his left hand and a wonky shoulder. He was badly shaken but was otherwise OK. I dragged him to the hospital for x-rays, and thank goodness everything turned out normal. His mother, though, who is in Florida, sounded in near-hysterics when we called her. I'm dyslexic. I scream Ho Dog instead of Oh God in the throes of passion.
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 5/15/2008 8:38 am |
Gawd and I thought I was the only one that did things like that.  Glad to see I'm not alone. I'm not laughing, really I'm not. You know most people put the napkins on their laps to catch anything that may fall by the wayside while trying to get food into your mouth. Not me. Nothing ever gets a chance to get that far down, it seems to hit the F cups and be proudly displayed for all to see. But I REFUSE to tuck a napkin into my collar.  I just make sure I lean right over the plate.
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5/15/2008 8:49 am |
MM - Shite! Oh poor David! He must be so shaken! Gentle hug from Aunt WHF here for the poor boy. I can imagine that his mum is in hysterics and threatening to take the first flight back to check on him. Bloody irresponsible taxi driver. And oh, I do the falling down stairs thing on a regular basis. I once fell off a water slide, down almost three flights of steps into the pool and ended up with vertigo for almost 4 months. Never fully recovered as, occasionally, I get relapses if I am extremely tired. And let's not talk about the life changing fall off the overhead bridge ... Yes, we are Wonder Twins. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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5/15/2008 8:53 am |
I'm going on strike for gowerboy's stolen ball to be re-attached. I may be absent for a while.
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5/15/2008 8:55 am |
Gawd and I thought I was the only one that did things like that. Glad to see I'm not alone. I'm not laughing, really I'm not. You know most people put the napkins on their laps to catch anything that may fall by the wayside while trying to get food into your mouth. Not me. Nothing ever gets a chance to get that far down, it seems to hit the F cups and be proudly displayed for all to see. But I REFUSE to tuck a napkin into my collar. I just make sure I lean right over the plate.Er, I go to the cinema and every time I come out, I discover bits of popcorn in my blouse, between the cups. It's so bad my friends would take bets on how many pieces of popcorn I will discover on and between the headlights after the movie. It's bloody embarrassing. And I totally agree about the napkin into the collar thing. I always think of Rin Tin Tin ... nah uh. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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5/15/2008 9:11 am |
I'm going on strike for gowerboy's stolen ball to be re-attached. I may be absent for a while. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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5/15/2008 7:22 pm |
Funny... but then again, not so funny with the humiliation. But you know what, i always think pretty faces like you always get away with that kind of little "missteps." Glad to know nothing serious happened to your eye. Growing old is inevitable. Growing up is optional
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5/15/2008 10:52 pm |
Aw, man ... you not only have a wonky sense of fashion, you also appear to have a wonky sense of pretty!  Er, I don't get away with missteps but I am pretty good and pretending I am not embarrassed when I am dying from it. It helps that I cannot blush. Yeah, eye feels a little blurry but otherwise it's all good. Ta! In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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5/16/2008 6:56 am |
Am here to hug you, WHF. Miss you all! Will be back to have a better reading here during the weekend! Take care! Agnes
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5/16/2008 11:30 pm |
Agnes, hao gao xing kan jian ning! I was a little worried about you as I had not seen you in the blogs and with everything happening in China. Have missed you too. My heart goes out to all of you. Be well. In the immortal words from 6th Sense ... I see stupid people.
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