The Failed Hit and Run: the Umbrella Edition

When I was seven, my mother labeled me a “klutz,” a Yiddish term for someone who is more than a bit rhythmically challenged. It also meant, at the point I internalized this nickname, that I lost all coordination. I tripped, I fell, and I, of course, bruised easily.

But then I turned eight– and in a miraculous turn of events– I outgrew my klutz stage. I began taking modern dance classes, experimenting with tap, and learning to walk in a straight line while entirely sober. I was the Jewish J.Lo., tush and all. And I was certain that I would one day be a backup dancer for Britney Spears. This was before I realized Orthodox Jewish women don’t dance in front of men. And that while I was a good(ish) dancer, I was not Britney good.

Even though I never made it into a sold out pop princess tour, I thought I had mastered the art of balance and basic rhythmic coordination. However, I forgot one caveat: All rules are null and void in the absence of caffeine.

This explains why today, on route to my new favorite coffee shop where my tattoo-laden barista was soon to ask me out, I walked right into a parked truck- umbrella in hand. Yes, somehow I managed to stumble sideways into the, ironically enough, Boar’s Head all-you-can-eat-bacon truck.

And instead of acknowledging my own klutzy demeanor, I began to whack the truck with my umbrella. My violent outburst propelled the pig-loving driver to run out of his vehicle and pry my weapon of choice from my albino-colored hands.

“Girl, what is the matter with you?”

“I haven’t had a cup of coffee, and your bacon-dealing truck just about killed me. G-d damn bacon!”

“Um, do you hear yourself? You are claiming my stationary truck ran into you–”

“Um, you do realize I haven’t had my morning latte yet?”

And with that, he returned my umbrella to me. He also threw in a $5 bill and said, “Go get your sanity back, on me.” I smiled, hugged him (despite the fact that he reeked of swine), and promised to put his money to immediate use. Which I did less than 60 seconds later, the point at which the tattoo king asked me if I was single, and I responded, “Make it a venti please, and I’ll think about it.”

I’m still thinking. And right now I’m thinking I need a Coffee Daddy.

 

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2 responses to “The Failed Hit and Run: the Umbrella Edition

  1. At age 10, I also wanted to be Britney Spears’ back-up dancer. Coincidence?

  2. This is hysterical! I’m with you though; I cannot function in the morning without my coffee. I wish I could have it automatically come to me when the alarm goes off. Now THAT would be a great alarm clock for people like us.

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