It was an unusually embarrassing day for our heroine, whose aliases include “Calamity Suzy” due to her amazing talent for being accident prone. Not to mention that in addition to the usual fights against gravity (boobs’n’butt), she ends up wearing part of every meal. Her eating style is probably comparable to Mike’s beautiful daughter Marina (though far less charming). I hasten to add that despite being a messy eater, our heroine does know what fork to use. The food just might not stay on it.
The day started out reasonably enough, with a cup of black coffee and a completely perfect peach, but deteriorated rapidly. I went to water the flowers so kindly planted by (but not maintained by) the Mystery Gardener. While walking out the door, I managed to trip and fall forward, smashing the pitcher of water and falling onto my side. My shoes had fled inside, and I lay there winded for a moment, hoping that no-one would see me. They would be all too likely to jump to the wrong conclusion based on the contents of my recycling box, against which I was gracelessly arranged.
When I was finally able to get up and breathe again and wash off the blood, I went to the doctor. Not because of the watering incident, but because of my oh-so-tenuous mental health. I burst into tears in her office. She increased my dose of happy pills.
I thought it would be too embarrassing to be seen on public transit, weeping and sniffling, so I treated my beat-up body and psyche to a cab ride home. Waiting at a red light, a loiterer on the street corner winked at me. I smiled politely. He said, “Meet you at the next traffic light, baby!” I just shook my head and looked away. Then he started knocking on the window of the cab, saying, “You can’t even look at me now? Aaaah, you’re blushing!” Which was true. This was the longest red light in the world. The cab driver was supremely unaware or superbly uninterested, since he appeared not to notice a thing. He has probably seen far more interesting things in his career.
I finally got home and decided to have a nice long bath, complete with a Lush bath bomb. I ran the tub, applied the bath bomb, which fizzed deliciously, and went to get my silly, fluffy novel and a glass of wine, which I set on the edge of the tub. While leaning forward to turn off the taps, I managed to slip on an errant piece of cinnamon from the bath bomb and knocked the entire glass of wine into the bath. The glass didn’t break, but I sat there thinking of an old commercial: “You’re soaking in it!”