Going Down

Thursday was a slightly different day. I put on a black skirt and a new top (which I love and is actually pretty hip), my hair seemed to be working (which in the humidity of the east rarely ever does) and I was feeling pretty good. That rarely happens in my world. As I got to the train station and exited the train, I got a few second glances from some guys in the station. As I'm sure women will agree, that can be a confidence boost – especially when that is something that doesn't always happen to you. I even smiled and thought to myself – I look pretty good today.

It didn't take 20 steps from that moment for me to no longer be quite so cute. I started climbing the stairs to exit the station and on about the 3 ^rd or 4^th step up, I tripped. Down goes my bag, down goes my purse, and down goes I. Next thing I know I am nearly sprawled out on the steps of Suburban Station.

I look up and of course the station full of people are all looking directly at me. Not a single, solitary person stops to ask if I am okay. Not one. They are all looking at me, but no one says anything. Trust me, you could NOT have missed what just happened.

For anyone who has ever had an embarrassing moment such as this you know that your adrenaline starts pumping a bit. So, I pick myself up, gather up my bag and purse and begin to once again climb the stairs. At this point I can not remain silent. Call it being embarrassed, call it being from Jersey and being half Italian; call it whatever you like but I needed to let everyone know. I brushed myself off, raised my hand in the air and out loud said – I'm fine, thanks everyone for asking. As we all continued walking up the stairs people starting giggling. I, however, was not.

I was so mad. Mad at myself for tripping up the stairs. Who does that? Okay, aside from me. This is now my second time tripping up the very same stairs. (If I haven't already told you my herbal essences man story you'll have to ask me about that one.) You'd think I'd learn by now. I was mad at the people for laughing at me and not asking if I was okay. I was mad.

After getting out of the station, into the humid, August heat, and several blocks away from the station I could chuckle. A few times I flat out laughed. As I got to work I couldn't help but think – even if tripping and sprawling across the stairs is anything but graceful, at least I did it in cute clothes. That thought got the biggest laugh of all.