Non-Fiction Friday: A Random Act of Stupidity

I walked into the mountain base bar dressed in puffy snow-boarding clothes and wearing one of those giant astronaut looking snow helmets before they became main stream and fashionably smaller. The bar was extremely crowded, filled with rosy cheeked revelers.
My husband left to find a ski locker and I waited patiently at one of the few tables in this 40-seat bar to order two Toasted Almonds. While I waited I couldn't help but notice the tush of one of the female patrons who sat at the bar only a few feet from me. Her healthy-sized derriere was fully exposed save for a very scanty piece of underwear. Perhaps because I had yet to become a bartender, or perhaps it was my youthful naivete- I clearly wasn't sensitive to the tone or vibe of the bar crowd. At all.
Although I had unbuckled my chin-strap, I was still in my Michelin get-up as I approached the girl to gently tap her on the shoulder. The face that whipped around to greet me was weathered, cross-eyed with intoxication, and absolutely furious at the interruption.
"What?!" She blurted with a grunt.
In a small voice I managed, "Um, I just wanted to tell you that, well, your pants are down in the back."
Knowing that I had just made a colossal error, I wished my orange tinted goggles were still over my eyes to protect them from a different kind of glare. And as much as I wanted to move, I remained involuntarily frozen in place. Sensing an opportunity to seize my shame and expose it to everyone, the girl stood up and shouted to the bartender at the far end, "Hey Jimmy! This BITCH here is staring at my ASS!" The place went very, very quiet. Of course the bartender shouted back, "She said what?"
As I collected my mittens and scarf in a hurry, the interaction between us was repeated to the larger audience, this time with the assistance of other customers who had witnessed the account first hand. The laughter, pointing and name calling seemed to explode all around me. So when my husband walked into the room, ready to relax and enjoy a well-deserved cocktail, I intercepted him faster than a high-speed chair lift and escorted him outside to the snow.
Later that night, as we sipped beers by our cabin fire, we laughed about my horribly executed and quite honestly, stupid decision. "Live and learn," I chuckled.
It's been many years since that day but the experience still brings a smile to my face. Here's to living and learning.
Jordan Catapano

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