I’m going to tell you something that is both hilarious and personal. The majority of what I’m about to say is going to humiliate me, but I’m not going to lie, it’s just too hysterical not to share. So, there I am, sleeping on the couch. Deep in dreamland, I hear the doorbell ring. I immediately jump up and look out the glass. My first initial thought is, “OH NO, it’s a cop!” I figured he was going to tell me someone died. I go to open the door when I realize, my hair probably looks ridiculous. (As if that’s really going to matter if someone’s dead.) Anyway, I checked my hair (which was tragic, but acceptable) and spent the next 30 seconds trying to get the door open. I am not the quickest when I’ve just woken up. Luckily, I had fallen asleep in jeans, so I wasn’t dressed too crazy. I opened the door to realize that it was not a cop, but rather a firefighter. I breathed a sigh of relief. Well, kind of. My mind then went to “oh shoot, what did Dad set on fire this time?” Fortunately, there were no fires, just a routine building check (of the church, which we live next to). I gave him the information he needed and somewhere in the middle of one of my sentences, something horrible occurred. I think my body finally caught up with everything else that was going on (since I jumped up in about .5 seconds after the doorbell rang) and all of a sudden I started hacking/stuttering/coughing/had one eye opened one eye closed while trying to explain what the building is being used for. I wish I was exaggerating, but I am not. I know he must have thought “Oh my, whatever that mystery illness is that has struck 12 girls in NY has come to North Carolina!” I know that’s what he was thinking because it’s exactly what I would’ve thought. Then, the worst part of all, in the middle of my involuntary outburst, I realize the worst of all. (And this is where it gets personal, so yeah…) I’m just talking and then it hits me, “oh crap, my pants are unbuttoned.” Sure enough, since I fell asleep in jeans, I unbuttoned just the top and obviously in the madness of waking up so quickly, I completely forgot. Nearly dying of embarrassment, I leaned halfway back in the house and tried to pull my shirt down, praying that somehow that he didn’t notice; but I’m guessing he probably did.
All that to say, I nearly died when I came back inside. Not only was that the most hilarious and humiliating ten minutes of my life, I was forced to give him my name, which just makes it so much more tragic. Now, as I write a blog about it, I do not question that tonight when he goes home and sits down with his family I will without a doubt be the subject of entertainment for their dinner conversation. You’re welcome firefighting man, you’re welcome.
ASHLIN BOYLES 