Friday, June 17, 2011

Tom Foolery

Y'all. There is a reason why I don't venture out into public before 11 am. This morning affirmed that I have been making the right decision.

I have never ever lived in a house outside of my parents house before. I have no idea how it works. What do I do with my trash all week? You mean there's not a neighborhood dumpster? You mean I'm responsible for my own lawn care? Wait a second, I HAVE TO CLEAN MY OWN GUTTERS? I HAVE GUTTERS??! Lord, please forgive me for my dramaticisms.

Our house was in desperate need of some internet. How are we supposed to facebook and shop online and waste time if we don't have internet?! And by we I mean me. Four phone calls, a spoonful of confusion, and a headache later, we had an appointment. I was secretly impressed by my mature completion of adult duties. But then again I just laughed at the word "duty" as I typed it so I guess the former sentence is void. The sweet lady on the phone informed me that the internet man, let's just call him Tom Foolery, would come between 7am-12. Of course in my brain, combined with my selective hearing, I heard "We'll see you at 11". Let's just call me Silly Sue.

So, this morning, when the doorbell rang at 7:30 am, you know why I was dazed, confused, and just about ready to call the fuzz.

Whit and I had pulled our mattresses into our living room amidst the array of our randomly moved in furniture because we couldn't handle sleeping in a room just yet. That's translated to I'm a pansy and it was our first night sleeping there and I didn't want to sleep in a room by myself. So, naturally, we pushed our little twin mattresses together and placed a lamp in between us and slept right in the middle of our living room. I felt like a little kid who had made a pallet in the living room. All we needed were pigtails and retainers. You can guess which one I had covered.

The next sequence of events are an unbelievable blur to me. The doorbell rang. I immediately thought to myself, "Dumb bunny doorbell. Tina will get it. What time is it....oh my lanta where the heck am I!?" I rolled off the bed, and slapped on my nike shorts. The next thing that happened will haunt me for the rest of my life. I opened the door and simultaneously realized I had my shorts on backwards, I didn't have a bra on, and screamed, "GOOOOOOD MORNING!!!!!" in a pitch that only dogs can hear. It was an inappropriate recipe for disaster.

The person staring back at me could have been a jcrew model. I tried to play a mind game with myself and say he looked like an ogre to save myself compounded embarrassment, but it was to no avail. The more I tried to tell myself he was ugly the more he looked like a handy man version of Jude Law. Lord help us. He came in and immediately got to work. I ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth and try to salvage any piece of dignity I had left. I looked in the mirror. The latter would be impossible. And that's when it happened. He couldn't find the cable. And, to my horror I heard the following conversation happen:

Tom Foolery (TF): "Where's the other lady?"
Whit: "Umm...in the bathroom"
TF: "Um. Erm. Okay."

Oh geez. Oh no. Please Lord, let me be dreaming. Please don't let him think I'm doing something embarrassing in here. I ran out of the door and moved quicker than I had in 24 hours. I wanted to inform him that I was just brushing my teeth and putting a bra on but that would be SO MUCH MORE inappropriate and embarrassing than anything I had done prior to that right? Am I right?! Thinking clearly only minutes after waking up is not a strength of mine.

After 20 minutes of tinkering around and being a handy man, Tom Foolery got us all set up. I signed the papers, I made no eye contact, and prayed he wouldn't remember the past 30 minutes of his life. On his way out the door Whit said, "Thank you. Sorry we were sleeping!". Bless you Whit.

Tom foolery, if your reading this A) I'm dying of embarrassment B) Has anyone ever told you that you look like Jude Law? C) I'm sorry that I'm not sorry I was sleeping at 730. I am sorry for a list of thing including bralessness, my hair standing on end, and acting like a psychotic dog trainer but I refuse to apologize for being asleep at 7:30 am. Whit's a better person than I am.

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