I wake up about 10am and do a bunch of errands for my mom. Once I’m done, and running sufficiently late, I get in the car to head to 7th Street Tattoos and realize I don’t have my debit card, so I have to first go to JA Fair (wrong direction) and pick up my card so he can continue working on my back piece (we’re at the mid-lower middle back… right on the bra line). I’m now running half an hour late, but that’s okay because I’m going to be sitting in a chair for two and a half hours in pain anyway. Half way through I take off my bra, to make it easier for both of us, assuming I could put it back on later. When I’m finished and ready to leave, I realize I CANNOT wear a bra. It would just be too painful. I’m wearing a normal TShirt and no bra, and it’s a little chilly outside. UNCOMFORTABLE! I’m not exactly one of those little girls that can get away with not wearing a bra, so to say I was self-conscious was a huge understatement! Classy!
Mom calls and wants to get food… wow, I’m WAY hungrier than I thought! Food sounds great, but I’m bra-less so let’s go somewhere fast. She reminds me no one in Little Rock knows me, and Juanita’s is mighty good food. Good Mexican food can pretty much convince me to do anything, so I’m game. We get there to realize they don’t open for another thirty minutes, so we walk a block down the street to Community Bakery. We walk in, order coffee and frittatas (because egg, cheese, grease and bacon are good for a diet) and go to our chairs. I notice the man that works there opening up the cake display from the front… to rearrange cakes, maybe? Anyway, they call my name to let me know my Vanilla Latte is ready. I go get it, and since all of my concern is on NOT spilling this extremely hot liquid all over me, and NOT letting everyone see The Pointer Sisters, I fail to see that the man hasn’t closed the glass case, which is now at eye level.
So, I’m bra-less, standing in the middle of the bakery, with spilled coffee and water all around me, and an eye that is swelling by the seconds. I should have cried. I should have yelled at the guy for leaving the door open (he wasn’t around, and who seriously gets boiling hot coffee and starts checking out the room for safety hazards?) I should have left and not stayed to eat. I should have demanded a free dessert. I should have been angry, embarrassed, upset, annoyed. Did I do any of this? Did I feel any of that? No. I laughed. My mom almost cried, but I laughed. It was a perfect Rachel day. What can I say? It’s just how I roll.