What else could go wrong? (The One Question to Never Ask)

There are a few things in life that teach you, absolutely, about Who You Are. Moments that, while happening, show you to yourself. One of them is grief. Another one is heartbreak. But a moment of embarrassment, in my experience, proves to be the most direct in revealing everything You Are in one (nauseating) moment. There’s something about realizing, instantly, that you look foolish that slows down time. The outside world drowns away and for a moment you realize you’ve been thinking that your heart exists inside of your chest when, in fact, it’s located in your ears... both of them! The blood flow that consumes your face makes the obvious agony you’re feeling known to the outside world and the immediate swoosh of heat that rushes all over the body makes the un-comfortability all the more… uncomfortable.

The moment just after feeling torturous embarrassment is actually quite relieving. After such instant anguish, the release of blood flow from the face to the rest of the body is rather pleasant and when the heart rate has returned to normal, a wave of gratefulness for not feeling that shame washes over the soul, allowing you to breathe easy once again.

I’ve had many embarrassing moments. Heck… who hasn’t? But when it comes to retelling a moment worth recording, one particular evening comes to the foreground of my mind. Everyone knows that an embarrassing moment, naturally, gets suppressed, bottled-up, and locked in away in a section of the mind called 'No Thanks'. They just kind of sit there you know, floating in a locked box at the back of the brain. Every now and then, they sneak past the guard at the box gate and float to the foreground, popping up (randomly, always) to humble us in our everyday lives. When I recall this evening, I feel a cringe within my gut that makes me put my head in my palms and shake my head hopelessly.

At around 22 years of age, newly single, after a way-too-serious-for-way-too-young-relationship, my friend Emma called at around 2 o’ clock on a Thursday. With the day off work, I had spent the morning running errands, met a friend for a quick take-away coffee date and was on my way back home. The speaker system activated in my car and her voice echoed throughout the vehicle.

“Hello honey.” She greeted me like usual.

“Hey Em. What’s happening?” I responded.

“Well, Jez just called me. Apparently, there’s a new bar slash club thingy that’s just opened up near his house. He said it’s quite fancy and him and the boys are going. He invited us to join them.”

I kept quiet.

***

Jez had been our friend for years. We saw him every weekend, either at mine, Emma’s or his. We were tremendously close and knew everything about each other. However, Jez had recently made friends with a crowd of boys from a new indoor soccer club he had joined. Emma and I would go watch him play once a weekend and always took full advantage of the chance to wear oversized sunnies and short shorts. We much preferred our girly chats and were always only half-invested in the game, but the eye candy that was running and sweating around on the field was absolutely bonus. But one day, something terrible happened. Emma and I had arrived, like normal, and set up camp on our usual benched table near the field. We had found the perfect seats that allowed us to be close enough to the coffee shop but also close enough to the field, but without the glare from the sun. We greeted the waiter, Reggie, son of the owner of the club and (by now), a good friend of ours. We ordered our cappuccinos and relaxed into our seats when Jez walked up towards us. Behind him were a group of 6 boys. One caught my attention quite shockingly. He had dark hair that brushed about his face and his deep blue eyes had caught my eyes from an uncomfortable distance. Reggie stood near us, placing our cappuccinos on the table gently. I moved quickly, for a reason still unknown to my logical mind, and moved my arm, suddenly knocking the glass of hot coffee all over the table. It seeped into the serviettes and the brown caffeinated liquid dripped off the sides of the table and all over my hands and shirt. Jez laughed, as he would. My face felt cherry red and I believed I was going deaf. I apologized to Reggie ever so quietly but he just smiled and told me not worry. But I did, I worried a lot. Emma stood up quickly but laughed if off, as if to have my back. Jez gave her a kiss on her cheek to greet her and then moved to me. The boys began gathering around our table. I was awkwardly wiping my coffee-stained hands with soaking-in-coffee serviettes, pretending desperately that it was working when Jez kissed my cheek.

“Gee wiz Chlo.” He said to me. “I told you guys,” he turned to speak to the boys, “You can always count on Chloe to bring some chaos.”

“Well that’s a lovely introduction,” I thought. I glared at him but he didn’t notice a thing and ruffled my hair like I was a clumsy 10-year-old.

“Gents, this is Emma.” Emma waved and said hi with a gentle confidence.

“And this…” He put his hand over my shoulder, “… is Chloe.”

“Hi.” I said softly, looking down at the dark brown serviettes I had in my coffee-colored hands. Jez introduced us one by one to each of his new friends and we politely greeted through awkward handshakes and shy smiles.

“Evan, this is Chloe.” He said to Mr Blue-Eyes.

“Hello Evan.” I said clearly, praying silently that my hand was dry.

He smiled. “Oh, it’s Ethan.”

“I said Ethan, Chloe…” Jez laughed at me.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I said, feeling my cheeks burn up. “I heard Evan.” I tried to explain. We put our hands out to shake and sure enough, my sticky, clammy, coffee-hand stuck to his in a gross way.

“I’m so sorry,” I said looking at my sweaty hand. But he had already been distracted and was answering a question his other friend had asked.

***

“He said the drinks are super cheap…” Emma said, as a way of twisting my arm.

“I don’t know Em.”

“Ah come on Chlo! It’s student night for heaven’s sake!”

I thought for another moment.

“Okay. I’ll come get ready at you and we can go together.” I finally gave in.

“Yay!” She squeaked. “Oh, and since it’s fancy shmancy, maybe you could wear that hot pink dress we’ve been saving for a special occasion?” She suggested as a way of trying to get me to feel as excited as she felt.

It didn’t work. I felt nervous, knowing that Mr Blue-Eyes would surely be there.

“Maybe…” I said.

***

The ‘clink clink’ of my high heels on the ground made me immediately regret my decision to wear them. They were a bit tighter than should be and the ankle strap was cutting into my ankles. They were gorgeous though so I pushed through, or at least that’s what I had convinced myself in front of Emma’s full-length closet mirror. Emma wore a flatter and more comfortable heel. My dress was tight. It hugged my body and showed off my natural curves. I felt good but quite self-conscious because of how much of my body you could see. It was extravagant, pink and relatively short, reaching the top of my thighs. Emma had straightened my hair and done my make-up. She assured me we were going for subtle and I trusted her. She wore a dress too but it was flowy and she looked a lot less casual than I did. Jez and his friends were already there.

“I’ve booked a table. We’re already here, near the bar. Just walk left when you walk in.” Jez had told us from the taxi.

We walked in and walked left. My heart sank. The theme of the bar was Miami-Retro. The bar was filled with people dressed in shorts, slops and t-shirts, some men not even bothering to wear shirts at all. Girls were in shorts and bikini tops. It was a beach themed evening and I was excruciatingly over-dressed. I grabbed Emma’s arm as we walked towards their table. She gasped gently and whispered out the side of her mouth, “Don’t stress Chlo. You look beautiful. At least you’ll stick out.” I wondered whether I was going deaf again. I could hear only the inside of my head. We were about 7 feet away from the table. All the figures around the table were a blur but I saw Mr Blue-Eyes sitting near the wall. As we locked eyes, my right ankle gave way. I can’t well explain it. It just… twisted. Now, every person who wears heels knows the horror of that moment when the entire ankle loses structure. In one moment, there is no stability. The entire heel moves to one side, scraping deathly close to the ground. My heart dropped as I had a flashing vision of myself hitting the floor, side-face first. I grabbed onto Emma’s arm but it was too late. I had lost all balance and had fallen flat onto the floor on my side. The outrageous part of it all is that it wasn’t that dramatic. I fell rather politely, except I hit the floor hard. On the way down though, I lost all my senses and rubbed my (full of make-up) face all over Emma’s shoulder and arm. My hip hit the ground with a loud t'hud' and I bounced like a squash ball. The instant pain that shot from my hip right through my body made me want to burst into tears instantaneously… but God-Forbid! I held my breath sharply as I tried to fall as gracefully as possible, knowing, at that moment, that I was going down regardless. I’m not sure what was worse: the loss of ankle (and body) control, the agonizing pain, my bare backside open to the world because my dress had creeped up too high or the fact that everyone around me gasped (loudly) at the same time. Some people went “Ooooooh”, some put their hands to their mouths and I could’ve sworn there was some giggling far off into the distance. Emma dropped down to the floor immediately, meeting me at ground level – the level of shame – and grabbed my hand.

“Oh my God. Are you okay?” She didn’t laugh, even though I knew she wanted to.

Jez jumped up and ran towards me. He bent down too. But he couldn’t help it. He laughed. And laughed… and laughed. He held me while he enjoyed the moment so I guess that’s okay… (!)

Again, anyone who has ever fallen in a tight dress and heels knows the dismay of having to stand up. There’s no right way to do it. Conscious of not opening the legs too wide, bearing all the personal jewels to the world, do you stretch both legs in front and maneuver upwards? Or do you move onto the knees and stand up one leg at a time? You see? There’s just no pretty way to do it. Eventually, we settled on a way. Emma grabbed one hand and Jez grabbed the other. They lifted me up at the same time, without much of my help. The truth is, I just didn’t have the energy to face my life. But the thing about embarrassment is that, actually, it gives you no choice. I moved my dress over my backside and could barely stand on my right leg because of the pain shooting from my hip. I could envision the black, green and yellow bruise that would inhabit my hip bone but I would cross that bridge when I got there. Emma dusted me off and Jez put his hand around my shoulder.

He whispered in my ear, “You look hot as hell doll. I mean, you made a fool of yourself but you looked sexy doing it so screw everyone.” Actually, that made me feel a lot better and some blood rushed away from my ears and floated into my pale face.

“Okay, okay, nothing to see ladies and gentlemen.” He said loudly, walking me towards the table. Emma walked behind us. The boys greeted me and asked if I was okay. We sat down. Another sharp pang filtered through my body, right to my head in fact, as my bum hit the chair but I pretended it didn’t hurt. Mr Blue-Eyes, in a plain white t-shirt and simple jeans moved to sit near me. I could barely look him in the eyes.

“Hi. Are you okay?” He asked sincerely.

“Yes, all good!” I responded, clearly compensating. “I just twisted my ankle.” I explained.

“Yes, I saw.” He said.

Lovely!

“You actually hit the floor quite hard. Are you sure you’re not injured?”

Nice! I felt my cheeks turn bubblegum pink. Of course, I was injured, but he couldn’t know that.

“Yeah, no, I’m good. I just slipped.” I explained hopefully.

He smiled. I looked away. I needed to gather myself.

“Excuse me, I’m going to the ladies’ room.” I said, unable to meet his gaze again.

He didn’t respond but I got up quickly. The pain was almost unbearable at this point.

“I’m going to the bathroom.” I whispered to Jez and Emma.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Emma asked.

“No, I’m good.”

“Okay. I’ll order us drinks. Tequila?” She asked, knowing full-well that it was, indeed, time for tequila.

***

Every inch of dignity I had worked so hard to keep throughout the horrific incident came flooding out like the collapsing of the rock foundation for a dam. As I walked into the bathroom, the tears poured and I was gasping like a baby whose candy had just been taken from him. I quickly moved into a cubicle and sat on the closed seat. I lifted my dress up and saw the scene of the crime on my hip. It was swollen, red and beginning to bruise already.

Fun!

I cried and finally pulled myself towards myself. I walked out and moved my face towards the mirror. Low and behold, my pale pink lipstick was smeared all over my mouth and on the side of my cheek. It must’ve smudged when I hit Emma’s arm on the way down.

"It was really nice of Evan… I mean Ethan… not to say anything." I thought sarcastically. "He probably just didn’t want me to feel more embarrassed." I convinced myself.

I wiped the lipstick off my cheek and gathered myself. I breathed in deeply and assured myself that bad things happen in threes. Spilt coffee? Check. Wrong name? Check. Wipe out? Check. Oh no! I was also horrendously overdressed. Damn it! That’s four… And my lipstick was smudged all over my face!? Yup! I was in trouble…

***

On the contrary, the rest of the evening took a turn for the better. After a few drinks, I had forgotten about my wrecked hip bone and my extravagant outfit and we laughed and danced our troubles away. Mr Blue-Eyes was looking in my direction all evening and for a moment, I had genuinely forgotten about my debacles. The vibe in the bar was at its climax. The lights were down, the music was blaring and alcohol flowed happily from behind the bars, to the mouths of the partiers. Emma and I were on the dance floor, enjoying some old school jams. Jez was talking to a pretty girl with short, plum hair near the bar. He had his arm around her shoulder and was clearly making headway. I caught sight of Ethan. He was looking at me and began walking toward me. My heart started beating.

"Finally." I thought.

Emma saw him walking toward us and said, “I’ll get us another round.” She walked away, heading to the bar.

Ethan reached me and smiled. I smiled back.

Okay Chloe… Fresh start. New impression. I soothed myself.

“Hey.” His smile was dreamy. The music was loud and so he spoke close to my ear.

“Hi.” I spoke loudly back.

“Listen, I know this might sound strange but there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Yes, Mr. Dreamy Blue Eyes?

“I’ve been looking at your friend Emma all evening. I noticed her that day at the soccer club. Remember, the day you dropped the coffee?” He asked hopefully. “So, I was like, just wondering, if maybe you could tell me if she was seeing anyone? Do you think it would be okay if I asked her to dance? Is that something she would like?”

My heart sank. My body felt limp. I was dumbstruck. But then, something wonderful happened. I was so deeply embarrassed that, actually, I laughed. In reality, I had probably just snapped, but it felt really good to see the comicality in it all. I smiled at him, genuinely.

“Evan was it?” I asked humorously.

He laughed.

I looked over to Emma standing near the bar. She looked like a sweet princess. Her blonde hair fell smoothly and her dress made her look picture-perfect. I smiled.

“She would love that Ethan.” I assured him. “Go get her.”

He put his hand on my shoulder as if to thank me and walked over to Emma by the bar. I laughed again. I needed a drink. I walked to the other bar, on the other side of the room and sat on a barstool, struggling to lift myself up because of the aching in my hip. I laughed again.

“What can I get you miss?” The bar lady asked me.

“Tequila.” I said between giggles. “Make that two. One for me and one for you.”

“Oh, I can’t drink on the job…” She explained. “…But you look like you could use the company.” She gave a cheeky and empathetic smile. She poured two tequilas and we both held the shot glasses up to each other. They ‘clinked’.

She winked and said, “No regrets!” And chucked back the tequila like a champion.

I looked down at my over-the-top dress, touched my hip and laughed.

“To no regrets.” I replied.