and we are using this cute little guy as the theme picture (courtesy of #whatshouldwecallme) because let's face it, Mondays can have this effect on us, and the mishaps, that seem to only find me in the most awkward and unbelievable of ways, make me want to morph into the turtle guy above and hide beneath the bowl. So, let's get started, shall we?
What is this you may ask? A shopping bag? Why yes, yes it is.
But this is not your ordinary paper bag. This bag belongs to a rather cute boutique (you should check out their Facebook page- look at that viral marketing in the midst of my mishap.)
But that is not its unique characteristic that I am referring to. This bag alone caused
complete and utter
Dear Shopping Bag,
I do not think you understand what grave humiliation you put me through last Monday. I had just finished eating a grand lunch with one of my close friends and had climbed into my car when I noticed your "absence." You instantly sent me into a state of befuddlement because I just knew that I had carefully placed you in the floorboard before I left my house that morning so that I could return a shirt you loyally carried to the store after lunch. Being the
slight dramatic that I am, naturally I called my mother in a panic, insisting that someone had broken into the car (which was completely intact, with absolutely no sign of disturbance) and stolen you from me. In the midst of this phone call, I noticed a man in a truck behind me waiting for my parking spot. Trying to be attentive to him but still frantically trying to locate you, I pulled my car back into the spot so he would understand I wasn't leaving. I even turned around, pointed to the phone, showed him my keys, and shook my head that I was not leaving. I thought I had relayed the message to the man behind me and had safely parked the car, so I returned to the phone call with my mother and kept searching the car for you. I failed miserably with both of these attempts. As I began to look for the bag again, I realized that the car, indeed, was not in park as it continued to roll towards the car in front of me. Once again, naturally, I went into the second panic attack on the phone with my mother that my car was rolling forwards, and I had no idea why. I then looked down to see that I had not placed the car completely in park. After securing this, I turned to see that the man was still waiting behind me after I had tried to communicate multiple times that I was not leaving. Keep in mind, although my writing makes this seem to span across an exasperating amount of time, this chaos all occurred within approximately two minutes. Noticing the man behind me, I hung up with my mother, and began to get out of the car to tell him I was not leaving and had to go back in the restaurant to see if I took you, the bag, inside.
Before I could even put one toe completely on the ground, the aforementioned man in his truck, began to scream at me in the middle of this public restaurant parking lot. He, in a completely disrespectful and inappropriate/barbaric manner, yelled at me, asking if I was leaving or not. I, in utter shock that a middle-aged man was publicly screaming at a twenty-year-old girl, tried to calmly explain to him that I had tried to tell him multiple times I was not leaving and was having to go into the restaurant because I misplaced a bag. Well, the man in truck made it completely, crystal-clear he had no concern over my lost item as he continued to scream at me about the whole line of cars that were waiting on me. As he continued to have his Mr.Hyde display, I turned my head to the side and took in the nonexistent line of cars (his being the only one) and other available parking spots in the lot. I turned back and tried to smile despite his continued barking as he pulled away. Might I add, his wife sat silently the whole time in the seat beside him, and let her husband scream at a young girl in a public parking lot. After this display of humiliation, Bag, I returned home after still not finding you. Do you want to know where you were, Bag? You were....
....on the kitchen counter.
Where I left you that morning when I had to switch keys to take my dad's car instead of mine.
I suppose I should apologize for how tightly I clenched you into my hands and the utmost negative thoughts I sent your way when I found your hiding spot.
To offer an olive branch for the guerrilla warfare you caused earlier, when I finally returned you to your store after an hour delay and a Jerry Springer display under my belt, I pulled up to the store to see a 50% off sale sign in the window. I may have cracked a smile at you, a little bit. Although with great relief, I returned you to your proper place, I do commend you. You put up a rather large fight, so kudos to you, paper bag.
As for the man in the truck, I hope that you find your Mississippi manners sometime soon. Either way, thank you for your contribution to this blog post.
To the rest of you, I hope your Monday ran smoothly, and if not, learn to laugh and simply write it off as a Mishap Monday!