I Meant to Do That!

Have you ever noticed the lengths some people will go to keep their dignity intact if they have an accident? Bad things happen to everyone, and they generally happen with no warning at all, so the victim is often forced to react quickly in order to preserve any shred of self-respect still remaining.

When I was going to school in Rexburg, the winter months often meant icy and slippery sidewalks; in fact, it was not uncommon to see people dropping left and right like fusebox-checking slutty girls in a horror picture (I would have said dropping like flies, but you know how I am with cliches. Ugh). The commonality of these types of occurences took away the novelty quickly, but the homogeneity of reactions by the crash-and-burn student body contributed to the loss of the initial romance.

For example, imagine a student walking to class at 8:00 a.m. on a snowy, miserable day, the sun shining "cheerless over hills of gray" (from John Greenleaf Whittier's "Snowbound"). The student approaches another student of the opposite sex and exchanges mutual elevator glances with him or her, briefly perusing the mobile merchandise, as it were. Suddenly, the boy, distracted by the girl's good looks, "so soft, so calm, yet eloquent" (from Lord Byron's "She Walks in Beauty like the Night"), slips and falls on his...you know what. Embarassed, he looks up at the girl, who is trying desperately to push a smile away, and says to her, nervously giggling (yes, boys giggle too, especially when they're embarassed), "Hehe. I did that on purpose. Hehe."

Really? That's the best you can come up with? You're saying you stepped on an icy bit of sidewalk, fell to the pavement like a newborn calf, broke your computer, bruised your left cheek, sprained your right knee, pulled your groin, and split the backside of your boot-cut Levis, exposing your Mickey Mouse boxer-briefs to the entire world deliberately? And you claim that because you don't want to look dumb? Well, you've certainly accomplished that, my friend. You have accomplished exactly that (Note: Just a word of advice, if you do happen to fall on an icy sidewalk in the middle of winter in the presence of an angelic-looking woman, it's better to pretend that you hit your head and knocked yourself silly on the sidewalk. That way, she'll be looking at your make-believe lump rather than laughing at your Disney-themed rump). Yes, people will do or say just about anything to keep their pride in one piece, even if it, unbeknownst to them, actually has the opposite effect.

All I can say to this is....

I understand completely.

Unfortunately, people ought to learn to be creative when it comes to covering up a disaster. Here's an idea.

One day in a university class, I was sliding about the computer lab on a desk chair. I was the manager of a class project, so I felt that sliding about the room in comfort and ease befitted fully the dignity of my then-current position. Ha. As I prepared to take off from my computer to the other side of the room, I set my feet and pushed off. Unfortunately, when I did, the underside of my shoe snagged on the carpet and ripped the the sole of my sneaker halfway off. Yes, there I was in the middle of class with one good shoe and another that was flapping like Old Glory in a winter breeze.

Well, needless to say, I had to quickly stifle a curse word (teachers don't like it when the students curse, even if they have a good reason), but I was obviously a trifle embarassed by my sudden misfortune. Thankfully, class finished just a few minutes later. I tried to walk with the sole the way it was, but it dragged on the ground like the flipper of a tranquilized seal. It was not going to work, so I took off the shoe (Thank goodness, I had put on new socks that day; they didn't even have holes in them).

Of course, a few of my friends in the class realized that I must have felt the awkwardness of the situation, that is, walking home with only one shoe on my foot. Well, diddle-diddle-dumpling, one of the girls offered me a ride home so that I wouldn't have to walk, which kindly gesture I quickly accepted. Of course, we had to walk to the library's computer help area to have her computer checked for viruses before we could go to her car. As I started my walk of shame toward the library, I began seeing people I knew, and I realized that they could see me, too. Me and my one good shoe. Consequently, I started to fake a limp so that they would stop their smirking.

That's right. I limped. All the way to the library and out to the girl's car, which actually proved to be farther away than my apartment. In the other direction.

Now, you're probably thinking, Why on earth would you do something like that? Well, if people had to see me walking across campus lopsided, I just preferred having them think, "Oh, that poor guy probably hurt himself," instead of "What an idiot! He's like Tom Hanks in that one movie about the man with one red shoe. What's that movie called again?" Uh, The Man with One Red Shoe? "No, I don't think that's the one."

Really I am of the opinion that  the phrase "I meant to do that" is overused by the klutzy and injury-prone. It's really not funny anymore, and it does practically nothing to assuage embarassment; in fact, it may make you look more like a fool than you already do. So, if you do have some bad luck, be creative about how you react to it. It may improve the situation; it may not. Ultimately however, your story will be a lot more fun to tell and hear after the embarassment has worn off.