Thursday's Incredible Trauma

After listening to my story about the "Thursday Night Incident", my friend in Greensboro told me, "If you are ever asked to describe your most embarrassing moment, you have it." I agreed.

Last Thursday evening at the restaurant, I was at the cash register when a woman got up from her table and headed towards the register. She appeared to be in her late 70's or early 80's. As she approached the register, I looked at her and noticed that her blouse on one side was pulled up three or four inches from the waistband of her pants. At that point, I realized that she was not wearing a bra, as part of her left breast was hanging out of her blouse. At that moment, I may have gone into shock. I could feel my ears and cheeks glowing red.

I tried to avoid making eye contact or even looking at her. I looked out the door, looked out the windows, tried to look into the dining room, anything to avoid looking at her. When she reached the cash register, I took her check and rang it up. Her bill was $8.78. Do you think that she gave me a twenty or a credit card? Of course she didn't do that. She started giving me exact change, placing the money down on the counter in front of her. I kept my head down while she counted the change, trying to see only the money. It didn't work, my field of vision was too wide. At this point, my ears and cheeks felt like they were on fire. She had to have noticed that my face was bright red. What I am saying? She couldn't notice that her breast was hanging out. I finally scooped up all of the money and threw it into the cash drawer. I thanked her and tried to see the ceiling as I waited for her to walk away. Did she walk away quickly? No, she wanted to talk to me about the beef tips. I responded and she finally walked away.

I headed to the back of the restaurant to try and wash my face to lose the bright red glow. A waitress stopped me and asked, "What's wrong Gilbert?" I gave her the quick version and told her, "I am going to the back and bleach out my eyes. Maybe I'll get lucky and go blind. At least, I'll never have to see that again." She asked me, "Did you tell her?" I quickly responded "Are you insane, woman? I'm a guy. We spend our whole lives trying to get women to show those to us. Nobody ever told me what to do if there was one you didn't want to see!!"

The idiot of the day was a waiter who asked, "Are you sure that it was a breast? Maybe it was a mole or a birthmark." I told him, "I'm 57 years old. I have seen a bunch of those live and pictures of thousands. Idiot boy, I'm telling you that it was a breast."

I have told this story to several people since and the responses are interesting. Women usually ask, "Did you tell her?" I don't understand that line of thinking.

My favorite response was from my friend in Greensboro. Last week when I mentioned in a post that I had an embarrassing moment on Thursday, I received an e-mail. "What happened Thursday? What happened Thursday? Tell! Tell!!" I replied that I would tell the story on Sunday morning. I can't decide which one of us laughed harder on Sunday, but I wasn't the one wiping tears from my eyes.

Rodney Carrington, the country singer and comedian has a song called "Show them to me". Yes. it is about breasts. If Rodney had been here Thursday. he would stop singing that song.