If you can laugh at yourself, you are going to be fine. If you allow others to laugh with you, you will be great.
- Martin Niemoller
I am not always the sharpest tool in the shed.
Case in point was an encounter I had recently with a very good-looking landscaper. I was out on my morning walk and, oddly enough, I had a book of quotations sticking out the bib pocket of my overall shorts. In other words, I already looked a bit strange…like a distracted writer who had escaped from her hobbit hole.
I was en route to the lending library, in our little community garden, to drop the book off…which is where I spied the sexy landscaper, wearing a snug short-sleeved shirt, hedge-trimmer in hand.
Naturally, I headed towards him and the hedge he has just finished trimming…you know, just to say hello (it is SO important to be friendly to people in one’s neighbourhood).
Now, perhaps I still had another recent incident on my mind (the hour-long bikini wax, as relayed in my blog, “Personal Grooming Services—Do Guys Have to Deal With This?”) because instead of hello, what came out of my mouth was: “That bush looks WAY better! Isn’t it funny how we never know how much something needs a good trim…until it is trimmed?”
The cute landscaper stared at me a moment, perhaps wondering if he’d heard correctly. Then he broke into a big grin and said, “You are right about that!”
We continued to look at each other…to say the moment was awkward would be an understatement. I wanted to crawl under the hedge. But since that wasn’t an option, I held my head high, bid him a good day, pulled the book of quotations from my overalls, sauntered over to the lending library and placed it inside.
Then I skulked towards home, mortified. But after I turned the corner, I burst out laughing at myself. And then I remembered another recent incident, with a different guy, that had also left me laughing in embarrassment.
This one happened just a few weeks ago at the golf course. Every Friday afternoon, I golf with a fabulous group of ladies. I was on the patio, after golfing, and was walking by a table full of guys. I was wearing my cute new pink golf shirt, which is perhaps a smidgen snug. And wouldn’t you know it but right as I was passing by the table, one of the guys stood up and turned around. For some reason, he was holding his hands out, at chest height…my chest height.
He didn’t see me. He was looking at a server, a few feet away, who was carrying a tray of frosted beer mugs. So right before his hands met my snug pink shirt, he announced, “Wow! I haven’t seen THOSE in a while!”
You could have heard a pin drop on that patio. The poor guy looked at me then he looked at his hands, then his mouth dropped open.
“Oh no,” he said. “No! That’s not…oh no!”
Which is when the table full of his buddies burst out laughing—and couldn’t stop for twenty minutes. It took all of us a little while to piece together exactly what had happened. It had been the perfect storm of comedic action…like a scene in a movie.
It was also the best laugh I have had in a while.
Laughter is an instant vacation.
- Milton Berle
—
Previously Published on Pink Gazelle
—