Tag Archives: Embarrassing

You, too

After giving her my order at the speaker, she told me my total and asked me to pull forward. Being the only car in the drive-thru, I happily drove straight up to the window.

The worker, a girl a few years older than I, slid open the window and smiled. “How are you today?” she asked.

“I’m doing fine. How are you?” I replied.

“Great, thanks for asking. It’ll be $6.74.”

I gave her my card, and she quickly ran it through the machine, handing it back to me.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked.

“Some ranch and mayonnaise would be great.”

“No problem,” she replied and slid the window closed.

I waited as she flitted about inside, getting other orders ready and cleaning off the counters. Finally, she slid the window back open and handed me my bag of food.

“Is there anything else you need?” she asked, smiling.

“No, I think that’s it.”

“Thank you,” she said. “Enjoy your food.”

“Thanks,” I replied. “You, too.”

And that is the story of how I totally pulled a Socially Awkward Penguin moment.



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Dinosaur Hate

Everyone has their own stories from when they were traumatized as a child. Some are sadly very serious, others humiliatingly funny. Mine happens to fall into the latter category. While I have several stories, the one I’m about to tell is the most embarrassing.

I honestly don’t remember where we were, as the memory of the actual trauma is what’s so adamantly burned into my mind, but I do know I was with my parents at some type of exhibit. Now, let me start off by explaining that I am an only child. I didn’t have siblings to play with and therefore had to rely on my own imagination to occupy myself. And let me say, I was never bored- my imagination was crazy huge.

With that being said, perhaps you may understand a little better how I became traumatized by such an innocent thing. The exhibit my parents took me to was all about dinosaurs. Not only did they have all the normal information and fossils, but also life-size recreations of dinosaurs. And several of them actually moved.

Now, I realize, most children would love something like that, especially if the dinosaurs moved. I, unfortunately, was not one of those children. To a six-year-old with an enormous imagination, they were so realistic that I couldn’t wrap my mind around them not being real. The second I saw them, I wanted to leave. I knew what dinosaurs ate, and in my little brain of imagination knew I could be next.

Not only did my parents make me stay, they also forced me to pose right next to them. They gently kept telling me the dinosaurs weren’t real and couldn’t hurt me, but I just couldn’t accept it. My mom finally got to the point where she picked me up {all the while I was crying my eyes out and begging not to be forced near the dinosaurs} and held me right next to the biggest dinosaur in the entire exhibit. To make things worse, it was also one that moved.

I remember being terrified and so mad at my parents, unable to comprehend why they forced me to even be near it. Even so, my dad was able to catch a super quick picture of us near the T-Rex. Thus, this picture was born:


As you can see, I was not happy and did not want to be near the thing. But I was such a good kid, I obeyed my mom and didn’t fight it.


Of course, that wasn’t enough for my parents. They also got the wonderful idea that they needed a picture of me by myself standing near the dinosaurs. Thankfully, they chose a section where the dinosaurs were stationary. Being such a good kid, I complied and reminded myself that if I didn’t look at them behind me, they couldn’t hurt me. It was only reason this picture even exists:


I didn’t turn around once…


It may not sound that bad, but it really was traumatizing to me. Embarrassingly enough, even to this day I hate being around any type of dinosaur thing {especially if they move!}. When I do get married and start a family, I know I’ll be a good mom to my children. But when the dinosaur exhibit rolls around, I’ll make sure to make it a special Daddy-only outing, happily awaiting their return at home.



Filed under Tiffany's Life