Embarrassing moment #1: I spent the night in Logan on Friday after visiting some clients in the area. The reason I stayed overnight was because I had a date up there and I was also meeting some friends the next morning. I was getting ready for my date when he showed up a little early. So I quickly finished what I was doing and we left. The date was a little awkward and I didn't know why and was getting rather frustrated as this is not our first interaction. In fact this was our 10th interaction and so for things to be awkward was just...... weird. I was irritated because I felt like I was making all this effort to make it an enjoyable date whereas my date didn't seem to care. We went to dinner and then he suggested we walk around PetSmart. I believe part of his motivation for that was because he was figuring out how to ditch me as soon as he could figure out an excuse. As we are walking around PetSmart looking at all the cute animals and I was trying to engage him in conversation, I felt at the collar of my shirt. I was wearing a black sweater that had the built in inserts so that it looks like you have a button up on underneath. To my absolute horror I realized that my shirt was inside out. I had been walking around for about 2 hours with my shirt inside-out! I gracefully excused myself to the restroom where I rectified the situation. Not too long after this I was dumped, although I doubt there was a correlation between the two. There's nothing like hearing your date say that they are "tired." Getting dumped was not the way I had expected to spend the night before my birthday. Oh well, c'est la vie.
Embarrassing moment #2: I went to a friends choral concert Saturday night and then went to dinner with him and two of our friends afterwards. I am quite well known for spilling food down the front of my shirt and this night was no exception. I had ordered a very delicious seafood pasta dish and was regaling the three boys I was with of my escapades from the night before. (see embarrassing moment #1) I tend to gesture with my hands and happened to be doing this with a forkful of pasta. Of course with all this gesturing I was doing I managed to flip a piece of pasta not just onto my shirt, but down the front of it. I was not about to let it stay there since there was also sauce all over the pasta, and not really caring who was looking, I began to take care of the problem. My dinner companions had the decency to snicker and look away while I wiped up the mess but there was a male server who stood there and STARED at me while I was retrieving the pasta. And this was not the sly corner of the eye stare, he was looking straight at me! I was less mortified by this than the shirt inside-out instance but I've decided not to protest when my dad calls me "Calamity Jane," recently it seems pretty appropriate.
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