Things that Strike Me Funny...

I rarely laugh at jokes. Very few of them are funny enough to me to even earn a smirk. What I think is funny are life's little embarrassing moments, even when they're my own.

Some years back I had taken a job at a publishing company just to get off unemployment. We were forced to take a full hour for lunch, so every day I'd run to a fast-food restaurant rather than eat a sack lunch at an old kitchen table in the same room as a noisy printing press. I frequented Arby's much of the time, and always sat on a padded bench that ran the entire width of the place. When it was time to leave, I'd scoot on the bench until I was between tables, then unceremoniously get up, pick up my trash, throw it away, and go out the door. Simple, huh...

After six months of typing boring 4-H results and "what happened 25 years ago" (like anyone in Washington cared), I got a job in Jasper on an IT team. Before I conjured up lunch buddies, I still went to lunch by myself. One day I headed to the Jasper Arby's. It was set up just like the one in Washington...benches along the far width of the restaurant with tables.

I headed to the spot I usually occupied at an Arby's--the old dependable and comfortable bench. I really didn't notice the one big difference between the Washington Arby's and the Jasper Arby's--that is, the bench at Washington was one solid bench. At Jasper, they had benches--not one single bench. There was about two feet of space between benches.

I scooted in and started eating, noticing the place was empty except for me and a table with two ladies about 20 feet ahead of me. Once I consumed my roast beef, fries, and drink I loaded the trash onto the tray and scooted down the bench to the area between the tables.

Thinking I was on the solid bench, I scooted my big butt right into the space between the benches. Down I went. In a desperate attempt to not hit the floor, I grabbed for the table. And as pedestal tables do, it tipped. Due to the nature of gravity, everything on the table came sliding on top of me. I was trying to catch salt, pepper, trash, and the cheesy bud vase with the cheap silk flowers.

It worked. Although I was sitting on the floor, I did manage to keep everything from landing on my lap. I shoved everything back onto the table, stood up, and looked around to see who witnessed my clumsiness. The two ladies were still eating their lunch, oblivious to me...or that's what I thought.

When I walked past the two ladies, I heard snickering. I looked down to see both of them trying to stifle their laughter. All I could say was, "You saw that, didn't you?" The girls could hold it in no longer.  The snickers turned into full-fledged laughter.  And that's all it took to give me my laugh for the day.

...and I never forgot that the benches at those two Arby's were different from each other.

BINGO!!!!

I've made a fool of myself on several occasions, but luckily have nearly always been able to laugh at myself. I can do that when among people I know, but when it happens in front of strangers, that's a different story. Here are the medal-winners, and they all happened on the same day, same place.

Before I worked at Kimball with my husband, I would always attend the company picnics at the fairgrounds. The food was good, the prizes were worth the trip, and there were activities for everyone. My husband always had to work at one of the booths after lunch, and the kids would play the various carnival games. But me? I hated roaming around trying to look like I belonged.

But one year was especially bad. The lunch buildings were always crowded, but we got there early and stood in line, then sat down. Leroy's a fast eater; I'm a slow eater. He wolfed down his food in five minutes and I had barely started. Then he said, "People are waiting for a table". Then he signaled to a man looking for a seat. I started to ask him to please sit and let me finish, but he was gone in a flash. In his place was a complete stranger, one of a thousand more. Embarrassing, to say the least.

I was hurt that some stranger looking for a seat was more important to my husband than sitting with me for a few more minutes, so I picked up my food and pitched it in the trash on my way out. After roaming around an hour, I decided to try my hand at Jarts. Even though my softball pitching sucks, I could at least come halfway close at Jarts and I didn't have to worry about hitting someone with the Jart if I should have an errant throw...or so I thought.

I stood in line and waited my turn. There was a large crowd waiting to play and many others just watching. The first Jart landed fairly close to the target. Not too bad. The second one was a little closer. Then I made the mistake of picking up the third Jart. It wasn't until I released the Jart that I noticed it was extremely sticky--no doubt the work of some little mongrel fresh out of the cotton candy booth. Because it was sticky, the Jart didn't release from my hand until a split-second too late. And because I was taught to "follow through", the Jart released directly above my head!

It went straight up and of course due to the law of gravity--straight down again and headed for me. I had to duck and run for cover! The crowd roared. That was the second embarrassment of the day.

Number three at the same company picnic.

I decided to pass the time playing Bingo. I could win $5 for a regular Bingo, $20 for a coverall. I headed back to the lunch building, which was transformed into a Bingo hall after the eatin' was done. I took a card and a seat. In just a few minutes, I had a Bingo. A thousand people in that place and I bingoed--what luck! I yelled the obligatory "BINGO!". The caller bellered, "HOLD YOUR CARDS!....Ma'am, this is a coverall". A thousand people turned to glare at me for interrupting their game. That was bad enough.

About fifteen minutes later, I had another Bingo. Again, I yelled "BINGO!" Only this time, those one-thousand people gave a collective groan. Ever hear a thousand people groan in unison? It's pretty darned loud. Again, the announcer admonished me. This time I left, much to the amusement of the crowd. At least now being a stranger came in handy. Nobody knew me. Nobody recognized me--except for Karl, one of Leroy's co-workers.

To this day, over twenty years later, I can be at the local grocery or Wal-Mart and hear someone holler "BINGO!". And I know it's that crazy Karl, who is now my mom's next-door neighbor. Over the years, the Bingo story has become funny to me; even to the point where I am the one that yells "BINGO!" to let Karl know I saw him first!