Two Policemen and a Pink Nightie

When I was in my early 20’s I still lived at home with my mom. We lived in a shitty trailer in my small hometown and my life was stagnant. One of the many problems with our abode was that our front door wouldn't stay shut. It would pop open at any moment. Our idea of fixing the faulty door was to wedge a long piece of wood under the door handle at night once everyone was home. Classy right?

One summer night my mom was out with her pseudo boyfriend, Dingy Denny. He drove a semi-truck and she would hang out with him while he worked. I knew my mom would be home super late so I couldn’t wedge the wood under the door before I went to bed. Even though I slept alone, and had no hopes for a boyfriend, I liked to sleep in a short pink silky nightie. I put it on and quickly fell asleep.

Several hours later I was rudely awakened to the sounds of yelling and the feeling of my door falling on me. I should mention at this point that the door to my bedroom never worked. It was supposed to slide back and forth but it would never stay on the tracks. Therefore, if I wanted privacy, which was all the time, I leaned it up against the door hole and hoped it would stay in place. In case you were wondering, this wasn’t the first time I had been woken up by my door falling on me. You would have thought I would have had the sense to move my bed away from the path of the door but I wasn’t that swift.
Anyway, I awoke to the door falling on my body and two men yelling something at me. I can’t remember exactly what they said but when I opened my eyes I saw that they were police officers and they had their guns out and aimed at me. I mumbled something like, “Umm...what..l...where..why?”

I hopped out of bed and cleared my brain and immediately felt embarrassed at my attire. My pink silky nighty was short and skimpy and not something I wore for everyone, my second thought was confusion and then fear. The policemen asked me if I was okay, I said yes, and they lowered their guns slightly but not all the way. They told me my front door was hanging wide open and a neighbor called them to check it out.

The two men left my room to search the house. They started in the living room and then went through the hallway to the bathroom and the other bedrooms. While they were checking out the house I rapidly searched around for my robe and remembered that I left it on the washer that was at the other end of the trailer. I hurried to get it and was embarrassed when my panties peaked out several times as I walked to the washer.

The police finished their scan of our house and found it clear of intruders by the time I grabbed my robe and put it on. I showed them out, shut the door and when back to bed. And yes, I didn’t put the board back under the door because my mom wasn’t home yet. Apparently, this event didn’t impact my psyche and I quickly enjoyed the peaceful sleep of the young, invincible and innocent.

Generosity

I took my three nieces and nephew to The Sky Zone last Sunday afternoon. We all had a great time and enjoyed acting silly. I even jumped with them. I had originally decided to watch the children but at the last minute I purchased my pass and joined in the fun.

After we finished our hour of intense cardio, I had the children accompany me to the grocery store. I told them I would buy them a snack since we were all ravenous. After much discussion I decided to get them a package of peperoni and cheese sticks. After putting the groceries in the trunk of the car I opened the package and counting the contents. Shit, I realized that I didn’t have enough for everyone. There were 4 peperoni sticks and 4 cheese sticks. I looked at the package, gave a small sigh and

handed a pep and cheese stick to each of the children.

The car ride home was only ten minutes so I know I wouldn’t starve and I could wait for a snack till I got there. Then the miracle happened. Sweet Sarah realized that I didn’t have a snack and she shared hers with me.

I was super impressed with her generosity and I hadn’t anticipated that she would realize that I didn’t get a snack. This was the first time I’ve noticed that one of the children wasn’t always thinking of themselves. She got a big hug that day and I was pleased in her growth to becoming a fantastic adult.

Even though this little story wasn’t really about my adventure at The Sky Zone I’ve posted some photos for your enjoyment.

Dance 10, Looks 3

Just a few days ago a friend and I were talking about the rating system. You know the number you assign another person based upon their hotness or a combination of their hotness and other factors. He asked me what number I would assign myself. It was a surprising and shocking question that I had never considered before this conversation. Honestly, I’m not a person who usually judges other based upon their looks and people often laugh at me when I fail to make an observation of a person that was so obvious to them. For example, I seem to never notice when men are bald. However, just like many other human beings I do enjoy a beautiful man although I never rate them or give them a number. It is usually just a comment in my head that he is cute or very appealing.

As soon as this friend asked me this question I immediately knew my answer. But I was a little nervous about telling him. Primarily, because when I said the number to myself in my head it didn’t sound good but it was my honest opinion of myself. As we discussed this topic we brainstormed on the different ways people can rate others.  The first and obvious was looks. When I think of the number rating system this is the only way I had ever thought it was based. However, my friend informed me that he has had several conversations with others and everyone seems to have different ideas on what goes into their final number.

Some of these people included intelligence, personality, having a car, job, house, garage or sense or humor. All of these things were included into the ultimate number they would rate a person. Personally, I don’t believe that. In all my experience I’ve felt that most folks rate other people on their appearance and rarely look for something else.

That is how I came to the conclusion on how I would rate myself. I wanted to give myself a higher number but I don’t think that I deserved it.  I have really wondered about this ever since I’ve said the number to myself. Do I have really low self-esteem? Offhandedly, I would say no. However, this low number may indicate it. Or, am I just realistic. Am I self-aware enough to know what I look like and judge myself on the same scale I would think my peers would judge me?

I know you are all wondering what number I gave myself and I will keep you in the dark no longer. It was a T-h-r-e-e. 3. 3! There I’ve said it. Now the cat is out of the bag. My friend asked me if I was taking everything into consideration when I assigned myself the number but I didn’t. I believe the entire social structure of the rating system is all based upon the physical appearance of the person being judged.

After my decision to give myself a three I wondered what it would take to think of myself of as an eight. Would I have to dramatically change the way I look or would I have to change the way I looked at myself? I know that many of the things in my life happened because I believed that I could do them. Could I do this with the rating system? If I believed I’m an eight am I an eight? I don’t think I’m there yet but it is something I’ll mull over in the next year. For now, I’m a three and I’m living with that.