I’m going to be honest: Yesterday was one of those terribly, horrible, no good, very bad days. One of those days where you catch yourself chuckling while stuck in traffic because really, how does it all add up like this? And you start thinking of all of those idioms that people use, like when it rains, it pours. But I don’t want to write about all of the stupid people that made my stupid day, well, stupid. Instead, I’m going to mention two moments from the day that, while still horrible, were at least moderately humorous. OK, at least to my stir-crazed mind yesterday they were funny.
A bit of the back-story on the first: Just recently, a woman was killed in my general vicinity, and while they have a confession they have yet to find the body. I had literally just been reading an article in the Inquirer about it before heading over to crew practice. My schedule was supposed to be girls crew practice, boys crew practice, then driving over to a different school for basketball practice, but the head coach said that he needed me to stay and stick with the novices. I called Childhood Friend and told her that I wouldn’t be able to be at the basketball practice, but that I would run the basketballs over to her house. I got to her house and carried the giant bag of balls up to the front of her house. I saw a car slowing down on her street, the passenger staring at me. After a few moments I decided to just put the bag of basketballs into the shed next to her garage.
I walked down the driveway and opened the door, put the balls in, and was closing the door when I heard “Stop right there!” I turned around and saw the woman in the car that had passed earlier. “I’m calling the police!” she added, furiously grabbing at her cell phone. Now, Childhood Friend lives in the town I grew up in, a town where my friends and I would go over to each others houses and walk in the door. “I’m not breaking in,” I explained. I would have laughed, but her face was stricken with shock. “There was a body in that bag!” I felt instantly relieved, and smiled. She opened up her door, and said “I’m overreacting, aren’t I?” I told her that Childhood Friend and I coached basketball, and that the bag (which, by the way, could totally fit a body in it) was full of basketballs. The woman and I shared a laugh over the fact that she had really though I was stashing a body in complete daylight. “I guess the news is making all of us a little tense,” she said.
The second moment happened when I got back over to crew practice. The girls finished up their practice, and then the boys jumped on the ergs. The pieces we lined up for them were terrible, as yesterday had been their 4k and 6k tests. The running equivalent would be training by running 7 miles every day, and then one day switching over and running several 400 meter sprints as fast as possible and maintaining those speeds. The head coach came in and was shaking his head that none of the boys were able to hold their rates. “They’re not going to be able to hit them today,” he said before walking into the other room.
I sat down in front of the ergs to talk to one of the boys about his form. The head coach came back in and was watching their ergs from behind him. I watched as his face lit up, and a few minutes later he mouthed they’re hitting them! to me. He looked absolutely confused- every single guy in the room was suddenly hitting their times and rates. But I realized none of the boys were actually looking at their ergs; they were looking at me. More specifically, my chest.
The head coach and I realized it at the same time- when I had crouched down in front of the erg my button-down shirt had opened and my pink lace balconet bra was completely visible. The head coach was cracking up, and I turned pink to match the bra as I scrambled out of the room. “At least we know how to motivate high school boys!” he laughed as I grabbed at my shirt.
Embarrassing? Yes. But at least it provided some humor to cushion the rest of the day.