Did I ever tell you the story of my very first major purchase? I didn't? Well, gather around friends, some one grab me a Diet Pepsi from the fridge.
I was around twelve years old and I had a sweaty wad of one dollar bills I had earned babysitting my dear nieces and nephews. I had been saving for months to get a brand spankin' new ten speed bike.
I went to Coast-to-Coast on Main Street and there she was.....bright yellow, with curled down racing handle bars. $98 slapped down on the worn wooden counter and she was mine. Everything about that bike was skinny, from the handle grips all the way to the tires. And the seat, oh man that seat was skinny and so very hard! Who was the sadistic a-hole that designed that bike seat and is he still laughing today when he thinks about the pain that he inflicted on young girls in the mid to late 1970's?
Unfortunately, that bike seat was only the beginning of the pain in store for my twelve year old self. It was a hot summer day, I spent the afternoon at the swimming pool, before joyfully speeding off to my sisters house across town. I was feeling the wind in my face, the ruffles on my one piece were flying behind me when my skinny front tire abruptly slammed down into the grate of a storm drain. I flew through the air, I may even have done a flip, that part is a little hazy. I remember that after sitting up to examine my bloody, gravel encrusted knees and palms, I surreptitiously glanced around to see if any one had witnessed my fall. To my everlasting horror, I saw the picture window in the house to my right was filled with laughing teenage boys vying for the best view of the freak show sitting in the gutter outside their house!
Those boys witnessing and enjoying my misery scarred much deeper than the fall itself. I quickly got up and rode carefully to my sisters and showered the gravel and road grime off my bruised body. Then I broke into my sisters liquor cabinet and drowned my pain in Jack Danial's Tennessee Sipping Whiskey. Thus started the downward spiral that is my life today.
True story, all but the whiskey and the downward spiral bit. I threw that in for dramatic effect. I don't think any of my sisters ever actually owned a liquor cabinet.
I do wish my twelve year old self had flipped those Maassen boys off! One of those boys is now over 50 years old and drives my kids school bus. I think I'll flip him the bird when he drops the boys off after school today! Just kidding....I think.
Have any of you embarrassed yourself in front of others? Care to share? Do you dare to share?
My Cup Runneth Over by Ree
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