Those Moments

I consider myself a fairly intelligent girl. I got good grades in school, decent amount of street smarts and can be professional when I need to be. Still, for some reason, I have my moments. Those moments that sneak up and make you question how you put your socks on in the morning. I like to believe these are my blonde moments. As embarrassing as these moments can be, it doesn’t stop me from telling everyone and anyone who will listen. I probably find them more hilarious than anyone else and I probably laugh harder while telling the story than my audience. I think it is because I vividly recreate the entire scene again in my head and it becomes funnier.

Which leads me to telling you my story of when I was a young gal. Just starting a new job in the Graphic Design world and feeling pretty proud of myself. I was single and free. At the time in my life when I could do my hair and makeup in the morning all by myself in peace and quiet. The only responsibility I had was to look cute and fresh. Now that I am older, married and have three young kids, it’s hard to imagine those mornings. I often wonder if I could put that amount of effort in now, would my “mom bun” and Lula Roe leggings be just as cute? Anyway, so I dress in the cutest Angora (fake) cardigan, adorable slim fitting shirt, oh-so-fitted perfect jeans and my new pointy-toe heels that have a dainty strap. The kind of strap that takes at LEAST 45 minutes to buckle as you contort your leg in the opposite direction to use one hand to get that little tiny metal “stick” into the tiniest hole and then try to thread the whole strap so it’s not flapping in the breeze like a broken wing.


On my way to work I decide to bring in Dunkin’ Donuts to schmooze my way in with group. I parked in the parking garage and came to an intersection where it’s fairly busy to cross the street. I was strutting down the sidewalk like I was Kate Upton (sans the large jugs) with the box of doughnuts and my coffee sitting on top of the box. All of a sudden, I start sinking INTO the ground and I look down and I am dredging my beautiful dainty shoes through wet cement! I had already made it half way through, so I figured I had to finish the deed, by hopping like I was on stepping stones, into the street. I run across the street without looking, but I still have one more street to cross to get to my work. I look over and there’s the worker smoothing out the opposite corner of wet cement with sheer perfection. He saw the whole thing go down and he just kept working and staring at me while shaking his head. Probably thinking how dumb I was to NOT see the small board on the ground that was blocking off the wet cement. And how he was now going to have to go redo all of his perfect work.


I sped past him with wet cement blocks as feet and finally make it inside to safety. I fumble to the lobby washroom and I set down the doughnut box. By now, it was soaked from the coffee that had tipped over and ran all over the top of the box. Miraculously, I didn’t have a drop of coffee on me! And still had some to spare to drink! As I look down, I am trying to assess the situation and worry about not being late. So, I get into my contortionist position by hoisting the ol’ block onto the sink and start pawing at the buckle to get my shoe off. I knew that this was risky, but I just started washing my shoes off in the sink. The whole time PRAYING the sink wouldn’t back up as the cement slid down the drain. I finally clean myself off and took a few breaths before entering the office.

The rest of the day went rather well as I sat the box of doughnuts near my desk (first ripping off the flimsy and wet top of the box so no one would notice it’s brownish/white color). I couldn’t help but giggle to myself as people came up to take a doughnut and comment on how they all tasted like a hint of coffee. I tried to maintain a seated position as my shoes were pretty much wet all day and squeaked as I walked. Not to mention the hardwood floors that amplified the sound for all to hear.

pexels-photo-273773.jpegLater, when I was more comfortable with my co-workers, I spilled the beans on what had happened to me. By this time, they knew me well enough to laugh and shake their heads as if they weren’t surprised. I did find out that another woman in the office had done the same thing of walking through wet cement around the same time I did. Interestingly enough, she was also blonde.


Written by: Sara Garcia de Alba


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