Traitorous Shoes and an Errant Ice Cube

Today is Isabella’s birthday.  Yea! I love birthdays – even when they’re not mine.  So, the Sister’s and their respective spouses all met at Isabella’s favorite restaurant for dinner and laughter.  I wore a really cute purple dress.  Unfortunately, my adorable black strappy sandals finally broke.  A moment of silence, please.  The Family Bright went to the mall to get birthday presents for various people, and I conned My Honey out of a really cute pair of silver patent leather wedges with a sling back and open toes.  Adorable and 70% off!  Ava agreed when I texted her a picture of them from the mall parking lot.

Dinner was great and dessert was even better.  After dinner, I headed off to the restroom.  This particular restaurant requires that you actually have to traverse the pass through in order to reach the ladies room.  For those of you who’ve never had the glory of working in a restaurant, the pass through is that really busy area where the wait staff congregates to punch in orders, pick up food and drinks, etc.  If it seems like a stupid floor plan, it is, but when a person has to pee, well you know. 

Just as I reached the rubber mats that lined the pass though, I could feel my feet starting to slip.  My arms started the pinwheeling motion you do to regain your balance.  Time slowed to a breathlessly agonizing pace where you have the time to see the expressions on everyone’s face and can sense with foreboding exactly what is going to happen.  Of the seven employees in the pass, everyone of them was staring at me, their eyes wide, their mouths forming a little “o” of surprise.  There was a split second when I thought everything was going to be OK, but then no.  Both feet shot out from under me, ice cubes went flying, and I landed hard, square on my butt in a puddle of ice cubes and water.

Everyone who knows me will attest that I fall down.  A lot.  I should be used to the embarrassment.  I have life long friends that would love to regail you with story after story of me falling down or hurting myself in some way.  The wait staff swarmed me, the manager offered dry cleaning, free dinner (don’t you know we already paid), medical care, anything.  I just wanted to disappear, of course.  I stood up and looked over at my table.  I could see Ed looking right at me – I gave a jaunty wave. 

I refused the help and the fussing of the staff, assured them that I was fine.  And then I walked with a limp right into the men’s room.