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29 April 2005

Witness To My Own Most Embarrassing Moment
filed: rambles
"What is your most embarrassing moment?" I've never really been able to answer that question. I've been humiliated, embarrassed, laughed at, picked-on, goofed up, fucked up, hell thousands of times. Was it the time when I dropped a whole six-pack of beer bottles in the gas station when I was underage? Getting my hair caught in a fan? The plumber pulling a pair of panties out of my clogged toilet? I can go on for hours, but none were so bad that I could not stand back at laugh at myself. Sure I have done things I was ultimately ashamed off, things that were embarrassing on a more moral level, but embarrassment of the type where I just look like an asshole, well those are a dime a dozen.

But two days ago, I went to see the Black Crowes at a local venue. A good friend bought me a ticket for my birthday last month. He and I got a tad loaded. We hadn't hung out one-on-one in eons, and we were having a wonderful time. As we entered the venue, the security guard asked to look in my purse, I handed it over obligingly, rolling my bloodshot eyes. I had nothing to hide, save a bunch of pens pilfered from the office and way to many tubes of lip gloss. The guard dug around and came out with my keys.
"You can't take these in there." Oh shit. I forgot, a friend who is a chemical supply salesman had given me a promo knife and put it on my keychain last week. It wasn't a cute mini Swiss-Army knife, no, it was a goddamned blade--jagged and menacing in its little yellow case. I don't know why I found it embarrassing other than I felt like a total criminal. I was always intrigued by the gang girls on talk shows who bragged how they carried razors under their tongues, but the closest thing I've ever carried as a weapon was Mace and some tweezers. Here I am being busted for having a knife! I pulled my friend out of the line, I couldn't get the damn thing off my keychain. I went back in line. I thought they might give it back to me after the show, but no, they tossed into the trash.

After we got in, I thought that they'd probably dig my poor little knife out of the trash after the show. The knife would then be placed in a glass covered case with other knives, pipes, bongs, and then assorted pills with nicknames no one has used since 1974 "goofballs" and "reds." My knife would then be toted around to schools and county fairs by the police to show the kids all the stuff that they took from the "bad guys." Growing up, I always sort of had a sick fascination with those displays and enjoyed the days we got shuttled to the auditorium to hear some cop propaganda. My enjoyment came out of a movie fiasco. I was a 11 year old girl scout and we were in a gym watching an anti-drug movie, but this movie was more of a documentary. The last thing that we saw, and they only thing that sticks out in my mind is this guy was on Angel Dust, and then he bit his girlfriend's breast off! Yes, he bit her boob off! The scout leader yanked the movie off the reel, and the cop apologized for bringing the wrong movie.

I really didn't need that knife to cut anyone or gut a rabbit. In fact I have so much stuff on my keychain I was once told it would ruin my ignition switch from the weight. The reason why I needed that knife along with all my other knickknacks and key tchotches was that I can never find my keys in the abyss of my purse. Having a bunch of doodads dangling from my keys was intended for me to keep track of them, not to kill.

All that said, I do believe I witnessed my most embarrassing moment. More so than the time I was carrying my laundry into my apartment, and my pants which were too big, fell down around my ankles, or the time I worked all day with my skirt inside out, or the time....

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