The story I have to share today is probably one meant more for women. There’s some topics covered that they will be more likely to understand and find in common. Gentlemen, feel free to read on! But some of the things I am going to talk about either won’t interest you or will make you feel super awkward. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
— Morgan Cantrell (@TravelTravelMC) February 26, 2014
Earlier I posted this tweet about the series of unfortunate events that befell my life today. I tell people all the time that I am awkward, and that some of the situations I get myself into are even more awkward than I am. Today was one of those days.
I was on my morning break headed down to the kitchen ready to get my chocolate fix. To get into the kitchen, I had to swipe my badge which was always kept in my blazer pocket. Today being as it was, my pocket had a few extra things in it – a couple of tampons. Since I was heading to the kitchen, my brain was only focused on chocolate, and it did not think, “Hey, there’s a couple hooha things in your pocket. Don’t let those come out!” Well, thanks brain for being one track minded. As I neared the door trying to be all cute like for the hot guy standing at the elevator, I attempted to pull out my badge. The badge was being difficult and not coming out as easily as usual. So logically, I tugged harder.
When I did, the tampons went flying into the air like confetti. It was like a movie; everything suddenly went into slow motion. I sputtered foul language into the air; hot elevator guy turned just as I reached in anguish for the flying hooha things. But to no avail. My hand-eye coordination failed me once again while I watched in horror as the tampons clattered to the ground. About now time seemed to speed back up, and I recovered as gracefully as I could. I snatched up the hooha things, bowed my head, and darted straight for the kitchen.
But to get to the kitchen, I had to swipe my badge remember? While the hooha fiasco occurred, one of the guys I worked with walked through the swipe door. In my haste, I brushed past him without making eye contact or listening to what he was saying. I knew that he, like hot elevator guy, had just seen my hooha things go into flight. Don’t wanna look someone in the eye after that now do we? Nope. As I brushed past him and tried to get through the door, he stopped me and said, “It looked like you were having trouble with your badge, so I opened the door for you.” I couldn’t decide if he was lying and trying to be nice, or if maybe by the grace of God, he somehow missed the tampon confetti in the walkway. Either way, I smiled and responded, “Awe, thanks!!” As I turned to finally go through the door, there it was, right in my face.
See, these doors run on an automatic system. When you swipe your card, they automatically open and therefore automatically close after a certain time. In my small conversation with the colleague, the time for the door to stay open passed. I turned on my heel and met the door face first. It started with my forehead as I was still ducking it low out of embarrassment, and then my nose and mouth got a good feel of the windex tasting glass. My hands caught the bar thankfully which saved my boobs from being smashed. Knocked backwards a couple of steps, I gathered what little dignity I had left, swiped my badge, and reopened the door to the kitchen.
Finally in the kitchen, my mind turned to hot chocolate. It’d become quite normal to find me in the kitchen making hot chocolate around 10:30, and I had quite perfected how to make the hot chocolate. I filled the mug about three-fourths the way full with milk, warmed it in the microwave for a minute, added the three VERY full spoonfuls of Cadbury chocolate, and blended it all in. I stood casually by the island listening to SkyNews go on about the UKs somethin’nother troubles all the while sipping on my hot chocolate. Everything was grand. Then walked in this group of oh so cute Irish guys. I mean, well done Ireland. So I started to try to be all cute like again.
Once I drank my hot chocolate enough to need a refill, I began the process again, but this time, I messed up. I added too much milk, and then because I was trying to be all cute like, I forgot the order and straight added the chocolate! And even then, I added one more scoop than normal. Then to finish it off, I stuck it in the microwave for too long and forgot about it!! In a complete fluster trying to keep it together, I took the scalding hot mug from the microwave and brought it back to the island. The hot milk and clumps of Cadbury had mushed together to form this disgusting chocolate-ish film along the top. I grabbed a spoon and began to spoon it off, but guess what? It wasn’t a chocolate film. It was the real chocolate that the hot milk rejected. It was mushy and clumpy and dirt brown. What had started off as a perfect hot chocolate turned into liquid chocolate gross dirt. Calmly, I continued to spoon off the mushy chocolate dirt film stuff off the top trying to ignore the group of guys, but if you knew me, you would know how impossible that was. In my attempt to look cute, I missed the mug and sloshed clumpy chocolate dirt stuff all over the island and my skirt. “Umm, um, Ugh. What do I do? $#!@!! Napkins!!” In about three swift motions, I wiped the entire island down removing it of any proof of the accident. I slam-dunked the remnants of the hot chocolate in the bin and left the mug in the sink. As I ran away, I grabbed one last napkin in attempt to save my skirt. At least I got to enjoy the first half of my hot chocolate. After all of that happened, I was more than happy to return to the safety of the reception desk.
A little while later, it was time for me to go on my lunch break. I walked towards the elevator, money in my pocket and food on my brain. While standing there waiting for an elevator, a couple of the women began chatting me up. They thanked me for being able to book their meeting rooms and said that I was doing a great job behind the desk. It warmed my heart, so I gave them a big smile and thank you! About this time, an elevator appeared with its doors wide open ready for us all to get in. I stalled for a moment waiting on the women, but they said for me to head on because they were waiting on a friend.
It took about three steps to get to the elevator. Just as I was about to step in, the doors closed catching me perfectly by the shoulders. I mean, I had one door on my right shoulder and the other on my left. The elevator didn’t hit me and release. No, the elevator hit my shoulders and got tighter. It didn’t realize I was there! For a moment, I was literally being squished by the elevator doors! All I could think was, “Well this’ll make a great Obituary. ‘Killed by Elevator Doors.'” After what felt like a small eternity, the elevator came to its senses, “Oh! There’s a human there! Please, come in!” I could hear the women gasp and snicker behind me, but after the day I had already had, it didn’t faze me. I walked into the elevator, faced the back wall, and hit my forehead against the metal a couple times. Could all of this really happen to a normal person before LUNCH?! Of course not. Normal people have normal lives, and awkward people have awkward lives.
Hi, my name is Morgan, and I am awkward.