My friend and I go to a
wine tasting today. It isn’t a grand
tasting, which means there is only one table of multiple wines, a very
manageable task. That is, until the
chowder.
That’s right. Chowder.
You see, we are planning
on going to two more small wine tastings in the area, so we decide we should
put something in our stomachs. Since my
parking space is very near to the Boston Chowda Company restaurant, we head in to see
what’s what.
My friend orders the clam
chowder; I order the corn chowder.
In the middle of our
impromptu snack, my friend’s cell phone rings.
It is her friend calling from out of the country. I signal for her to chat as long as she
needs, and I take out my own cell phone and start playing games with my cyber
pals.
My friend is still engaged
in her phone conversation when it comes time to move along. She stands up, one-arms herself into her
jacket, and gets herself ready while still connected and balancing the phone on
her shoulder.
I go to stand up, and …
… Nothing.
My legs will not move
because I cannot separate my feet.
Now, I know what you’re
thinking. You’re thinking, “Oh, my God,
the chowder at that place is so amazing that Heliand has become
paralyzed!”
Perhaps you’re even
thinking, “Holy shit. One little wine
tasting and the bitch cannot walk.”
Actually, it’s neither of
those two things. It seems that while I
have been playing on my phone, I decide to cross my feet under the table. I am wearing hiking boots and heavy socks,
trying to strike fear into Old Man Winter.
Instead, all I’ve managed to do is accidentally hook the loop of one
boot lacing onto the hook attachment of the opposite boot.
Somehow I have tied my own
shoelaces together and cannot pry my feet apart.
This dilemma in and of
itself is hilarious. It’s such a “me”
thing to do. I am so clumsy that I don’t
need anyone else to trip me up; I am completely capable of doing this all by myself. I try to get my friend’s attention, but I
know her call is wicked important, so I scoot to the end of the booth, hoping
to give my cohort the visual of the whole situation.
Then, just as suddenly as
it happened, my boots unlock themselves from each other, and I am able to move
again. The moment is gone.
Of course. Thanks, karma.
More wine tasting is back
on the agenda; my friend’s phone call goes well, and I am not my own victim of
a marvelous prank that only I can pull off.
