Today’s post is coming at you a little late in the day, as it took me much longer to write. I didn’t anticipate each moment being so long, but I’m storyteller; what can I say?
Since today IS so long, I’ll skip my usual chit chat and just get straight to business. One thing though: before reading #3, I would suggest reading this post first, as it will make much more sense to you about how I’m just so bad at getting massages. It’s not them, IT’S ME!!!
Moment #1: The Sea Urchins
I graduated college in May of 2008, and as a gift for doing so, my mom offered to pay for me to come along with her and my stepdad on their annual trip to the Dominic (this makes my family sound super rich…we’re definitely not, bee tee dubs). I of course said yes, so I want to reiterate that I was 22 for this experience, not 7 or 8 as one might think. Now, it was admittedly a little weird at times being the third wheel to a married couple at a beach resort, but all was well.
Until it happened.
We were wandering around the property and found this little secluded part of the beach. There was a rocky area that was super picturesque, and I just had to have a photo. Ignoring the “Danger” sign posted, I carefully walked down and stood on the rocks, waiting for my mom to take my photo. At that moment, a huge wave crashed onto the rocks, causing me to lose my balance. Being the genius I am, I was wearing flip flops, which obviously have zero traction, so in order to catch my balance, I had step back off the rock. My flip flops fell off, and once my feet hit the ground, I immediately felt stabbing pain. I screamed out for help, and my stepdad helped me back up onto land, but my feet were not having it. Every step I took felt like a thousand knives. I thought I had massively cut up my feet, but my stepdad confirmed that I had most likely stepped on a creature that had left some sort of pricks or stingers in my feet.
Yes, I had stepped on sea urchins.
I immediately thought, “POISON!” but was assured later that not all sea urchins are poisonous. My mom and stepdad rushed me to the resort doctor’s office, which was, admittedly, a little sketchy. I spent two hours in that doctor’s office while the doctor and nurse painstakingly pulled out each needle, using tweezers and needles. This was one of the most physically painful experiences of my life. Tears were streaming down my face, and every time a needle was taken out, I wanted to scream out in pain. At one point, my mom, trying to lighten the mood a little, said, “Oh, you must see this here a lot, huh?” The doctor, without missing a beat, replied, “No, only her.” Perfect. Eventually, they finished, slathered my feet in antibiotic ointment, and wrapped each foot in a bandage. I was told to stay off my feet for a day but that I would be fine.
As a result, I had to spend a day of my beach vacation in our hotel room watching TV, which was super lame. Eventually, my feet felt better enough to be able to walk, and you would think that the experience would have left me feeling a little more cautious; however, a few days later, I completely ignored a “Wet Floor” sign and slipped down the concrete steps. I apparently have a thing with signs.
Moment #2: MacGyver’s Adventure in Santa Cruz
This story has been pretty epic, and we love to tell it to new people we meet. Let me tell you about our little trip to Santa Cruz when we first moved to San Francisco. We had been wanting to go to the beach, so the Sunday before Memorial Day, we got in the car with our dog MacGyver and drove down to Santa Cruz. Unfortunately, we picked the worst time to go, since it was a holiday weekend. What should have been a 50 minute drive took us 2.5 hours. Needless to say, by the time we got there, we were just a little cranky. We finally made our way to the sand and hung out for a bit. Eventually, we decided to see what Mac would think about the ocean, which was the primary reason we wanted to go to the beach anyway. He was little unsure about the water, and honestly, it was a bit cold at the beach, so we decided to pack up and walk around a bit.
Eventually, we got hungry and found a pretty awesome little local brewery and had a snack and a pint each (no pint for Mac though, just snacks). We finally decided to head home, and on the way back, MacGvyer and I both fell asleep, him in my lap. Halfway home, MacGyver convulsed pretty hard, which woke me up. We didn’t really think anything of it because he’s done that before; however, once we were almost back to the city, he started repeatedly convulsing. That’s when we got worried. We pulled up to the front of the hotel where we were living at the time, and at that point, we really scared because he was still just convulsing. Once in our room, we started googling seizures in dogs. We tried to give him food and water because we thought maybe he’d had a heat stroke or was dehydrated. He threw it all up. At that point, we knew we had to take him to the vet. Once we were there, they whisked him away and did not have him in that exam room for more than five minutes when they came back with a diagnosis: marijuana toxicity.
Yes, our dog had somehow gotten high in Santa Cruz.
As soon as we heard this, both of our jaws dropped. I was so shocked, I accidentally yelled, “What the f***?!” to the vet’s face (oops). But it all started to fall into place, and we realized he was SO high. We immediately went from being terrified he was dying to just like, “Omg, our dog IS high!” It all made sense then and was terrible yet hilarious to us at the same time (as long as he was going to be okay, of course) because of course OUR dog would be the one to do this. However, the vet told us that this was the most common thing they saw, probably 2-3 times a week, and, “Welcome to California!” He must have just secretly picked up something off the ground. We spent the rest of the night making our stoned dog comfortable, and the next morning, he was back to normal, though he seemed slightly “hungover.” Poor guy. Poor dumb, dumb guy. So, in the end, our dog has partied harder in San Francisco than we have, and we were left with this crazy story.
Moment #3: My Latest Awkward Massage
I’ve written about my awkward experiences getting massages before, but this one takes the freaking cake. Last November, I
bragged wrote about our trip to Key West. Part of that package was a free spa treatment, and of course we both decided on massages. When we scheduled previously, I was so excited about a free massage that I didn’t even think to tell Brett that I wanted to request a female therapist (as I usually do). So, when we got there, it wasn’t even on my mind that this experience would be super awkward. This experience would be amazing. Brett was called back, and I waited there, alone. Finally, a man walked out, and, automatically just thinking I’d have a female therapist, I sat there, oblivious. He seemed to be looking past me, so I assumed he was there for someone else, but then he called my name. Confused, I followed him back. He then mentioned something about a dog, which left me even more bewildered (and I was already a little nervous to have a male massage therapist…just my personal preference to have a female). Finally, we got to the therapy room, where I found a service dog laying in the corner.
Yes, I was taken off guard because my massage therapist was blind.
I would like to take a second here to reiterate that this experience was ONLY awkward because of ME, not him! 🙂
So we started the massage and everything was sincerely fine. However, me being me, I couldn’t turn off my brain. I immediately started to feel guilty about my initial alarmed reaction. Then I started mentally congratulating him on finding such a cool career, thinking, “Man, this really IS the perfect job for someone with a loss of vision; his dexterity is amazing.” I was so happy for him that I just couldn’t relax. This seems to be a common trend for me, by the way. Finally, the icing on the cake.
Towards the end of the session, once I finally started to relax, of course, I started to smell the most awful smell. To my horror, I realized that the. Service dog. Had. Farted. This was pretty much the last straw for me, and I could not have gotten out of that room fast enough. All in all, the massage itself was lovely, but as I’ve said countless times, I’m just too awkward for my own good.
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There you have it, my top 3 funniest / most awkward moments. I’m sure (know) that I have many, many more, but these are the top three that came to mind. Additionally, each one of these moments happened while I was out of town, furthering my theory that I should just never leave my house. What about you??
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