Everyone has an embarrassing story. Some embarrassing stories make you giggle and compel you to then share how something similar happened to you. Some are awkward because you think the person is an idiot and you actually don’t think the story is funny. Some make you uncomfortable.

Mine – mine does all of the above. Except maybe the part where something similar happened to you.

The only thing going for me is mine happened before social media. Waaaayyyy back in 1997. When I was 22 years old. Had this story happened sometime more recently, it would have gone viral. My ass would be all over YouTube.

Literally.

#ToiletPaperTail would have lit up Twitter as I sauntered down K Street, at lunch time, totally oblivious.

And yet – though I will never forget this story – I realize now that surviving this story prepared me well for parenthood. Because what is parenthood on some days other than hitting rock bottom and realizing that the best way through it is with a laugh and accepting the only place you can go from here – is up?

So what happened?

It was a lovely fall day in 1997. I had my super new job working for a public relations firm at 18th and K Street. I thought I was a BAD ASS. I had my college degree, I had a job in the field I wanted to be in, I was FANCY.

Fabulous and Fancy.

That particular day, the CEO of the entire company worldwide was in our office. So what does a gal do but wear her best suit.
Really, I basically had one suit because I could afford nothing else and my parents bought it for me to interview for jobs. It was a grey wool JCrew skirt suit. I was totally Mary Tyler Moore when I wore it – I was going to make it after all!

Being 22-years-old and the lowest man on the totem pole, I did lots of menial things, like fax stuff (remember that?) and making copies (remember CC Mail?) and answering phones. Recall: I was fancy.

So the CEO of the DC office asked me to deliver something quickly — it was very important — and just had to be dropped off on Connecticut Avenue but it was VERY important.

Oh wow. And important job for the CEO!!! But first, I had to pee.  So off I went in my fancy skirt suit to the restrooms to pee really quickly before I hurried this envelope down K Street…at LUNCH TIME….to Connecticut Avenue.

As I rounded the corners from the restroom, the DC office CEO and the global CEO were also standing at the elevator banks. It quickly turned awkward. I wasn’t sure why. They suddenly had shifty eyes and wouldn’t really look at me. An elevator opened and they didn’t get on, so I hurried on because I had this VERY IMPORTANT DELIVERY for both of them. I was going to show them how reliable I was and amazing, of course.

Just before the doors shut, the DC CEO leaned in and awkwardly said “You have toilet paper coming from your skirt.”

Camera cue to me turning BRIGHT RED and the doors coming to a complete shut.

No wonder the other two didn’t get on the elevator with me. You know, the two heads of the COMPANY. No wonder they kept their eyes glued to the floor.

Suddenly I realized, I didn’t just have toilet paper coming from my skirt, I had my entire skirt TUCKED into my tights, then I had toilet paper coming from my ass and down the back of my legs like a tail – so if I were walking towards you, it would look like I had a toilet paper tail hanging between my knees.

A TOILET PAPER TAIL

AN EXPOSED ASS

In front of two CEOs.

Who thought I was just taking a huge poop in the bathroom.

I was 22-years-old.

Was this rock bottom?

And how, exactly, did this happen? I only had to pee. Why was so much toilet paper involved? I still don’t know the answer to that particular question. One of life’s great mysteries, I suppose.

And so, I rearranged myself and untucked my skirt from my tights and removed my new found accessory: the toilet paper tail. And I walked down K Street, during lunch, on a busy October day, so incredibly grateful that I didn’t have a toilet paper tail. And I wondered how could I go on? How could I face the CEO again? How could I face the global CEO? Surely he’d never forget moi.

Which was not exactly the impression I had in mind as I pranced to the elevator doors a few minutes before. Was I actually going to make it, after all?

And what was my next move? We were a very congenial, goofy office. I was a PR maven, right? So did I get in front of the story and tell my co-workers so they wouldn’t hear it from others first and then start gossiping about me? Recall: this went down at the elevator banks – anyone could have been standing there. Odds were the mortified CEOs would never tell anyone else. But do we think they bust out laughing when my elevator door closed?

Looking back now, I am sure they did. Out loud. Uproarious laughter. Wouldn’t you?

Oh I totally would.

But do I get in front of it or do I hope it never gets out, pretend it never happened, oh, and never make eye contact with our CEO ever again?

Do I just never go back?

It was a troublesome walk to make that delivery that day. And it all started out so promising.

So what did I learn from this humbling moment?

To laugh at myself, that nothing ever goes as planned, that youngsters always use too much toilet paper and I need to stop griping at my kids about it and for God’s sake, to check your ass before you leave the bathroom when you are wearing a skirt.

It prepared me well for parenthood. I know that I can come back from rock bottom and public humiliation.

Oh, and I got in front of the story and confessed to my co-workers, so we all could laugh together about it.

And laugh they did.

Got an embarrassing story like mine? Did it prepare you for parenthood? “Like” moi on Facebook and I’ll tell you more hilarious stories.

 

It seems the worst part of that bitch of a storm #Sandy #Frankenstorm is over here in DC. Knock wood, anyway, you know I hate to be jinxy, especially about the most beloved part of my modern life: electricity – but I believe the gods of all things weather, the Capital Weather Gang, as they predict and forecast the improving weather. So with the worst hopefully behind us, let’s talk about some observations in human behavior when the “storm of the century” (thanks for that, Al Roker), strikes:

1. Anxiety is hard. Turns out sitting around all day, closed up in your house, following federal orders to stay indoors, waiting for 8 excruciating hours for the worst of the storm to hit at dinner, is extremely stressful. Right? Also – it prompted me to make dinner at 4pm, which in itself is just strange, but who wanted to have electricity remorse and eat cold dinner at 6pm when we could eat warm dinner at 4pm?

Psycho?

Maybe.

Sitting around, waiting for the power to go out and watching the endless cycle of local news telling you the worst hasn’t come yet, and the power will eventually go out, is hard on even those of us with the steeliest of nerves.

I kept wondering – is it possible for an entire city to go dark? If it is possible anywhere in this very developed, advanced country – it will happen to all Pepco customers because that’s what they do best – suck – I reasoned (from a decade of experience).

Thanks to horse head guy for a little comedic reprieve. It’s good that someone out there was smart enough to think ahead and know that somewhere, someday, a horse head mask would be necessary to lighten the news.

2. Electricity binge. I don’t know about you but we were total power scofflaws yesterday. Why turn off a light just because you were leaving a room? Oh hell no. It could be DAYS or WEEKS before that room could see the light of electric power – mine as well leave it on. Why turn off the TV? It could be an eternity before the children can watch Jake & The Neverland Pirates again – so just leave it on. Why turn off the coffee pot? My pot for today was already brewed – let it stay on until the inevitable outage arrives – that could leave me closer to something resembling warm coffee.

But then – as I brewed coffee for me and Mr. Wired Momma in advance, I started to go a little Lord of the Flies on him….what if we really did lose power for 10 days, could I hide this coffee, did I have to share it with him? Should I hide the advance cups?

#Selfish

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, if I noticed a few things in the dishwasher, I reasoned I better run the dishwasher again, it had been a few hours since I last ran it and well, it could be a long time before it can be used again.

In other words – if it could be left on, it was on, in every corner of the house. All. Day. Long.

#WhereFirstWorldProblemsCollideWithThirdWorldProblems

#NotGreenYesterday

3. Accepting applications for a new common enemy – only applicants accepted are those in infrastructure or utilities. As someone who spent much of her 2os hating Metro’s red line for its total inability to ever get me to work during rush hour when the rain threatens, or get me home when the rain happens, before we even get to snow, I then moved to Montgomery County in my early 30s. My new common enemy quickly became Pepco. As an extended power outage survivor, multiple times a year, I almost built my entire writing identity around my hatred of this utility. My efforts to dismantle and destroy them through writing for Washingtonian, for my own blog, submitting written testimony to their public hearings and calling my local state legislators –  was true and committed. It has been a part of me. I love having a common enemy almost as much as  I love having electricity.

C’est vrai.

Yet here I am, a survivor of Derecho and a survivor of #Sandy – with electricity. My coffee was brewed for today, around 4pm yesterday, yet I can just brew one this morning. What is happening? I am a lost, wandering soul without a reason to hate Pepco.

I am now accepting applications for the next large public utility or incompetent infrastructure in Washington, DC to be my newest common enemy.

#Joking-NotJoking

4. There would have been only one advantage to losing power – not having to listen to the stupid campaign ads on TV. Oh, and I love all the segments on TV now about what’s safe and not safe in your fridge if you’ve lost power – I especially love them because those who don’t have power – can’t hear them.

#ThankYouMorningShows

What do you have to add to the Survivor List? Be sure to “Like” the Wired Momma Facebook page to keep up with the list and fun….and also – to apply to be my new common enemy. I need you.