Saints Preserve Us

In the history of embarrassing moments in my life, there have been only a few that stand out. I've got a new one to add to the list.

Yesterday was another big protest in DC for impeachment and an end to war. Seeing as how most of us have come to terms with the fact that the not-so-newly elected Democratic Congress is a bunch of "candy-asses" (to quote my husband), everyone is getting increasingly pissed off and the protests this month started with getting kicked out of the Patraeus hearings, the march yesterday, and then a week long rally on the Mall from 9/22 to 9/29, where another march is planned (but I won't be attending, due to the book festival).

In any event, I was going to Judy's to pick her up, and then we'd head to DC together via metro to attend the Code Pink rally in the morning, and then Code Pink would join up with the main group and we'd all march to the Capitol building.

So I told her I'd be up at 8:00 to make our signs, and we could then leave. So I left home at 7:00, got all the way up there and realized I had forgotten the key card that lets me into the garage, so I call over to her house and no answer, I figure she's asleep! So I start singing into her answering machine. That doesn't work, so I have to pull an underhanded maneuver to get into the garage, and find out that her landlord is parked diagonally across the parking spots, so I have to try and fudge my way into the sort of open spot so I can go wake up my sister.

I manage to do that, and get out, and lo and behold, the landlord is there sleeping in the car! I was kinda pissed off, so I made sure to set my car alarm twice for good measure.

So, I go into my sister's, and knock on the door, no answer. Now I'm really fuming because I know she's not up and we had plans for the morning, so I let myself in and look around. Dead quiet. Her door is open about 6 inches, so I decide I'm going to really surprise her and I open the door, and instead, it is I who is surprised, as my sister is not alone and is up to her eyeballs in Lucas, who is laying there looking for all the world like the cat who ate the canary.

So, I assess the situation, suavely say "Oh, good morning Lucas" as if I am accustomed to finding my sister in bed with conservative Republicans every day, walk in the room, and promptly lock myself in the bathroom--a dead end wherein there is only way out, and that's back through the bedroom.

What follows is my internal dialogue:

Oh shit. Shit! Why did I come in the bathroom?? SHIT!!! What am I going to do? I can't get out of here except to go back through the bedroom. And they're still out there... Because I know they're going to be waiting for me to get out of here so they can get up. Shit! Well, ok, I have to just act cool. Act cool and it'll be fine. It'll be fine. I guess I better flush the toilet so it looks like I planned to come in here all along. Ok, ok, here goes nothing. Be cool, be cool...

So, I come back out, smile at the two of them in what I hope is a supremely cool and non-threatening way, and say, "So, Judy, is everything OK with Alfie?" Judy looks at me like I've lost my mind, which I probably have at this point, and says, "Um, yeah, I think so, why?"

So I say, "Well, I just saw him sleeping out in the garage in his car, isn't that strange?" "He's probably just staying here till it's time for work or something."

So, to spur things along, I say, "It's probably best that we get moving, busy day ahead and all! I brought muffins!" and scurry out of the room.

At which point, the self-flagellation starts all over again...