Dignity…grace…what are those?
There are certain moments in life when I find myself so far lacking dignity and grace that I can’t help but laugh. Today was a prime example.
Taking a break from work, I ran a few errands, one of which was a trip to the nutrition store. When I got there, I was pleased to discover that they had what I needed in stock. Item in hand, I headed to the register to pay.
Just then, in came another customer who looked like he’d just gotten out of the shower and forgotten to dry off, this despite the fact that he had a large bath towel draped over his shoulders like a shawl.
Odd, but to each his own.
The clerk, like me, noticed the man, taking in his shirt that was soaked from the shoulders down to his chest as if someone’s wet hair had been hanging on it. I finished my transaction, bid the clerk “good-bye” and headed for the door. In turn, the clerk turned to help the wet man.
Nearing the door, all semblances of dignity and grace left me. Since I was on break from work, I was wearing a pencil skirt and five-inch stiletto heels. Not an unusual outfit to find me in, and certainly one I have no trouble walking in. Well…that is until today.
Just about halfway to the door, my foot came in contact with a slick spot on the floor. Though I tried to recover, my effort was futile. I knew I was going down. My first thought was, go limp like a rag doll (this is a technique most athletes learn as a means to minimize getting hurt when they fall). My second thought was, wow! Falling in slip-on stilettos and a pencil skirt is not going to be pretty.
Realizing there was going to be no graceful way to make it to the ground, I began laughing. This, as I fell in slow motion. Now here’s the interesting part. As I fell, fate smiled upon me, and I was able to gracefully fold my legs underneath me so that by the time I hit the floor, I looked like I’d planned all along to have a seat on the ground.
Sitting there, I began laughing harder unable to get over the fact that there I sat, kerplopped on the middle of the floor, heels intact, ankles not twisted and pencil skirt looking as graceful as ever. Heck, I was even impressed that I still had my purse strap over my shoulder and my bag in my hand.
How the heck did I manage that?
Hearing me laugh, the store clerk turned. When he saw me, his eyes widened. Then he noticed me laughing and asked, “Are you okay?” a smile upon his face.
I replied, “Yes, quite! Just thought I’d take a break and rest.”
That got the clerk laughing, while the wet man looked at both of us as if we were crazy.
Okay, he’s one to judge, Mr.-can’t-seem-to-dry-himself-after-a-shower guy.
Anyhow, I took a moment longer to assess that I was fine before, and I’m still not quite sure how I did this, I got up in one fluid motion—nearly impossible while wearing a pencil skirt. I looked back at the clerk and wet man and said, “Have a great day!” as I headed out the door, attempting to muster as much dignity and grace as possible.
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