This doozy goes back to nursing school again. One day a certain professor decided to tag along with the group for lunch. She happened to be the meanest of our teachers, and her face gave me heartburn and indigestion ... a.k.a FEAR.
We went to a salad bar and I nervously stayed a comfortable distance from her as we inched our way down the salad buffet line loading up our plates with nothing but health.
A nice table smack in the middle of the busy, bustling eatery was where we colonized. Back then, I was far from the outgoing, spunky chick I am today. So the atmosphere had me somewhat sweaty and anxious.
We played musical chairs before choosing our seats. I finally sat, adjusted my skirt, put the napkin on my lap, shifted my plate full of "grass" and realized my pie hole was about to become a salad hole. I raised my head to glance around.
The first thing I noticed was that I was sitting directly across from Mrs. Terror!! I felt a cold jolt strike me, and I immediately started shoveling around the contents on my plate to avoid eye contact. The other girls were busy ass-kissing already, blabbing about how honored they were to be accepted into the program and how eager they were to learn. **BARF**
The mindless chatter was getting to me, and I could feel my pulse racing. I decided to just eat and be a minion while the others talked themselves into nowhere.
Gazing over my plate, I thought ... Hmmm. What should I stab first? Which one of you veggies wants to explore the digestive system of this future nurse, eh? So I zoned in on this one plump little cherry tomato. Thousand Island was my choice dressing, so I cracked open the packet and squeezed it all over my grub.
I chose the cherry tomato as my first victim. I was going to cut it but decided it was mini enough to be eaten whole. I aimed ... and forked it!!!
Instead of my intended result of a successful stabbing, I created some sort of random physics experiment. The cherry tomato catapulted from my plate, and time stood still, except for the cherry bullet that pegged Mrs. Terror bullseye in the forehead ... bringing all ass-kissing to a screeching halt.
Apparently, the cherry bomb was lathered in Thousand Island because I found myself staring at that blotch of orange dotted on her forehead. Time seemed to be moving in slow motion as my heart thumped so fiercely, I felt myself twitching as all the blood rushed to my horrified face.
She gave me the "you're a moron and you just failed nursing school" look as she proceeded to wipe herself free from any trace of the unintended food fight I just initiated.
Two of my classmates cleared their throats out of sheer awkwardness. And I forced myself to spit out an apology. After my crackly, pitiful "I'm so sorry ..." the brown-nosers resumed the mindless chatter. Mrs. Terror gave me a half smile and said "that's all right," and I spent the next 60 minutes wishing my parents had never met.
Thanks for reading!!
Next ... Awkward moment #8, "To see or not to see"