For the average person, walking two blocks seems like nothing, but, then again, I am not the average person. I am just flat out embarrassing. Common occurrences with me include, but are not limited to: falling over due to gravity, snorting when I laugh too hard, hitting my head on anything in the general vicinity of my forehead, and, my personal favorite, tripping up the stairs. It seems whenever the opportunity presents itself to be awkward or uncomfortable in some way, shape, or form, I take it. For reference, please feel free to look at the plethora of embarrassing snapshots of me on Facebook.
I should have seen this one coming. I was in the rural Lucan, Minnesota, wearing a strapless dress in a basically tuxedo-optional conservative Church, on a windy day. Still, I trekked on through Minnesota’s prairie lands like a modern day Laura Ingalls Wilder––sadly lacking the bonnet.
Two blocks away from my destination, I set out to Church with my family, but with a 20 mile an hour dusty wind, the circumstances of the journey soon changed. What once was an immaculate face for Church soon became a dirt facial. However, I managed to make it there safely, clutching to the bottom of my skirt so as to not become the Marilyn Monroe of Lucan. But it wasn’t journeying there that was the problem for me. It was the journey home with the wind behind me that proved a problem.
My family strolled as I waddled––like a male Emperor penguin clutching to my dress as if it were my egg to incubate––to the local bar and restaurant located only a block away from Church. Disaster struck. By trying to prevent myself from flashing one undergarment to the world, I therefore exposed another. So as I held my dress tight, it simply slid down to reveal …. well, you know.
At the time, I didn’t realize I was pulling a Janet Jackson. But my mother did, and as her jaw soon hit the floor it seemed to echo through the two blocks that made up the town. “RACHEL LYNN HOGEN!” I glanced up, but suddenly felt an unusual breeze. My head shot down to see a full frontal of my fluorescent pink bra. I had a mixed reaction: shocked at how bright the bra was in the sunlight, scared because I looked at my mother’s face, and humorous because, honestly––who else would this happen to except for me? Quickly I yanked up my dress, and it was quite amazing how something that once was far too low became a turtleneck. Even though I was as flushed as the color of my bra, I did learn one thing: never dress down for Church.
