Caution: Floor Slippery When Wet

This weekend, I visited J before she leaves for teacher’s college. We’re not the coolest people in the world and, while people our age would usually plan to hit the town, we decided to partake in a viewing of Step Up 3D.

(It was fantastic, by the way. Hot men that can dance? What’s not to love? I’ve also decided to take hip hop dance lessons in the hope that it will either a) make me look like the gorgeous female dancers; b) win me a man that resembles one of the male dancers; or, in a win-win situation for me, c) all of the above).

Anyway, after the movie, we decided to head over to a local ice cream shop for a wee treat. It was pouring rain out and, in order to avoid getting soaked in the 2 seconds it would take to walk from the car to the shop, I decided to run. Quickly. Right into the store.

Did you know that linoleum floors are extremely slippery when wet? Or that $4 sandals have very little traction on them?

Well, I certainly do. Now.

In my haste to get into the store, I swung the door open, looked back to see where J was, stepped into the shop, and slid through the doorway.

I just didn’t stop sliding.

I’m sure you can guess what happened next, but let me fill you in on the more intricate details.

As I went sliding in the ice cream shop, my thought process went a little something like this: “This floor is extremely slippery … Oh dear God, I’m not stopping … WHY AM I NOT STOPPING?? … Oh shit, I’m going down … I am on my ass in the middle of an ice cream shop … I wonder if there’s a chance no one saw that…”

Let me tell you something: people saw it. J couldn’t stop laughing. She was laughing so hard she couldn’t (wouldn’t?) help me up. All three of the, thankfully female, workers came rushing out of the back of the shop, eyes wide and smiles playing on their stupidly pretty (I hated them) faces.

Perhaps the icing on the proverbial cake was that I didn’t gracefully slide onto the floor (I’m beginning to rethink this whole hip hop dancing career). Oh, no. I can only speculate, but I assume I held a resemblance to a (overweight) baby deer trying to stay on a surfboard during a tsunami. I wobbled fiercely. The arms went out, Surfer Dude style. My knees stayed together whilst my legs involuntarily spread from the knees down, a la Bambi. I tried so hard to stay upright that I crashed into the high chair that was located just inside of the door.

The high chair was the loudest fucking high chair in the history of the world. The tray fell off and clattered to the ground. On the floor at this point (I may have still been hanging onto the door handle), I flailed my legs hysterically in my urge to stand up and kicked the high chair tray around the floor (I left it there, by the way. Stupid wet ice cream shop floor).

One of the workers’ responses at my booming exclamation of “THE FLOOR IS SLIPPERY” (trying to save face, you know how it is) was “the sign is up, right?” Yes, thanks Barbie. The sign notifying me of the wet floor is indeed right in front of me. What the hell did that do for me, huh?

I didn’t even get a free ice cream out of the deal.

However, I wonder if they have a video of it… That would be some funny shit to put on YouTube…