Instant Karma…or why I should just not ignore people because they might have something to tell me

This particular instance of instant karma occurred  when I was bee-lining my fat ass to Baja Sol for a grilled chicken taco. Why the rush? It’s my lunch break, I have a limited amount of time, and this delicious place is a few blocks from my work. I avoided eye contact with some nice-looking individuals handing out flyers in the skyway. I don’t normally do this; I like to say hi or smile, usually. I know what it is like in the service industry, and I also know that people can be giant assholes, so I always make sure I, at a minimum, acknowledge the presence of an individual working a service job. Not everyone is an asshole all the time, right? 

I didn’t this time, and I don’t have a valid excuse (is any excuse ever valid? Thought for another blog…) Maybe subconsciously at the moment I was super pissed with myself that my fattest-ever-in-the-life-of-me ass wanted a fucking grilled chicken taco with pico de gallo, and I let my ass talk me into walking to get it (I think I stress eat. Ha! “think”…)

It was then, during this inner battle between my intelligence and my fat ass that the clash occurred. I was steps away from Baja Sol, looking forward away from the friendly flyer people. It was then that I slipped, doing that awkward flaying-arm-surprised-yelp-scarecrow dance trying to catch myself. It was in vain because I biffed it right there with my legs in the air directly in front of those flyer people and dozens others. I bet it looked HILARIOUS! It most definitely hurt, too, and I don’t mean just my ego; the bruise on my knee is growing.

I really just wanted to get out of there. I mean, seriously GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE RIGHT MEOW. I must have appeared similar to one of those Looney Tunes characters that is trying to move so damn fast they’re actually running in place. I couldn’t get up fast enough. I KEPT SLIPPING ON THE TILE. Damn it, I just want to pretend this didn’t happen and get a taco and go away I thought when those friendly flyer handing-outers I decided to avoid came to my rescue. “Oh ma’am! Oh my, are you alright?” she said as she helped me stand up, “You know, several people have fallen right where you did, and we have told maintenance that someone needs to clean the slippery stuff off the floor. We’ve also been telling people to be careful.” Well, that would have been nice to know. Way to go Emma, you eye contact-avoiding bastard.   

Next time I’ll make sure acknowledge their presence.