The following is a true story, not a story "based on a true story". Trust me, no embellishments were needed.
My wife and I decided to take the girls to a fun place during Christmas Break. The venue required all visitors to ride in a vehicle similar to a trolley to get to the entrance. There were a couple of rules to boarding, signs were posted with pictures (even my two year old daughter could understand these) to further explain these requirements. To reenforce the rules, an announcement came through the intercom and said, "Please no eating or drinking while on board." The place wanted you to be clear about this; they even repeat the statement in Spanish. However, I'm a rebel, so I ignored their simple request and brought my Chic-Fil-A cup with me anyway. (Honestly, I normally don't break the rules so it killed me. I justified it since technically I wasn't eating or drinking, but rather transferring a beverage from one location to another.) You can probably guess what happened. Somehow I hit the Coca-Cola perfectly as I sat down and it spilled all over the place.
For the next three minutes my mind was clouded with thoughts of being kicked out, humiliated, and arrested. People around me gasped a judging breath. I didn't hear it, but their eyes asked the question: Can't you hear or read the signs? Lacey laughed harder than I've ever heard her. My ears glowed red. My butt was so freezing cold that for the first time I felt a true connection with Coca-Cola's mission to save the polar bear. Then came the questions I asked myself:
What do I do?
Did anyone who works here see it?
Why can't you just follow the rules, Joel? Trying to save a couple of bucks?
Oh, I'll act like I don't speak English or Spanish. No, my daughters will blow it. Actually, Chloe does sound French. Oui, oui!
Is someone going to rat me out? Bunch of snitches, they'll do it! They hate me already for not complying with their precious rules.
Do I tell an employee or just walk away? No, you can't walk away...you have to run. Ugh, I can't do that, I have three girls and a double stroller...they'll slow me down.
Oh, I can tell them about the baby polar bears dying at the ice cap. That will be a nice way to break it to them. It's impossible to get angry with someone if they mention the words baby polar bear. If the presidential candidates for the 2012 election would just say "Baby Polar Bear", he or she would win in a landslide.
What if I just don't tell them? Great idea, no one will notice the guy walking around with a soaking wet coke butt.
At that moment I learned something about myself. I don't like confrontation. Actually, I don't mind confrontation if I know I'm right; however, this time I knew I was wrong (in English, Spanish, and picture form). It was almost my family's time to depart and I had to do something fast. So I came up with an ingenious three step plan.
First, scoop all the ice off of the seat into the empty cup. Maybe then it wouldn't look too bad. Guess what? It now looked worse because now it's just a puddle of mystery liquid. No one wants to touch mystery liquid. What is it with mystery liquids that make us smell our fingers after touching them?
Next, by the grace of God the seats were hard plastic, so I thought to myself. "Joel, would you rather your shoe bottoms be on a mystery liquid or sit in it? That's an easy answer. I took my hand and pushed as much of the puddle of mystery liquid as I could and splashed it in the floor. (Don't worry, the floor wasn't carpeted or a surface that would become slick). Making progress.
Still, the seat was a little wet but the ride was stopping & it was time for my family to depart. I didn't want to hear the squeal of "Mommy, why is this seat wet?" as the next group of people took our seats so my third genius idea was to scoot my bottom along the row to soak up the remaining coke on my way out. Success!
Once we got to the entrance, we saw that the place was packed. I ran to lean up against a pillar to hide my butt and decided what to do next. Never tried to hide my butt before. I felt kind of like the women on TLC's What Not Wear. Don't judge! (I don't watch the show, but sometimes Lacey beats me to the remote.) When Lacey and the girls made it to me, I had to make my decision: what next?
This was a family day. I didn't have time to run home or go buy new clothes. This day was about the girls. When it comes to clothing I'm pretty much game for anything, but I have a few rules. For instance, 1) I don't wear capri pants. Sorry dudes, but no man should wear them. It doesn't matter how much money you make or how fashion savvy you think you are, you still look goofy. 2) I don't wear skinny jeans (and certainly not skinny capri pants). This is mainly the effect of having a Total Gym in my house. I wanted to work out and get Chuck Norris' body, but instead I earned Christie Brinkley's. Call me old fashioned, but I just don't want some dude staring at my butt thinking I'm a girl. 3) Fanny Packs. Doesn't need an explanation.
I had to add something new on my list of things that I said I would never wear. Something that no guy would be proud of. Lacey had a white hoodie (like I'm saying, angelic white) and was forced to I tie it around my waist to hide the spill that encompassed my entire Christy Brinkley buttocks. Let me say, it's difficult for me to feel real masculine most days, but it's impossible with an angelic white jacket tied around your waist.
There I am in a crowded place. hiding a wet butt with a women's angelic white hoodie tied around my waist. Oh, and may I add that I was already wearing a purple gingham shirt with Toms. Looking more than metro.
I covered my shame with more shame.
To make matters worse, right after I tied the hoodie around my waist and walked around the corner, this insane lady who was possessed by Satan himself, came yelling at me in front of 50 people sitting and watching.
"Sir! Sir!"
She picked up her pace and even said it more sternly. I'm surprised she even addressed me as sir with humiliation tied around my waist to hide the humiliation on my pants.
"Sir!"
I look around and point to myself. She said "Yes!"
I thought, I'm busted! She knows about the spill (but does she know about the polar bears or my Christy Brinkley butt?).
I turn and walk back towards her and she said, "You dropped your phone."
I felt my pocket...no, my phone was still there. She was holding a freaking walkie-talkie in her hand. I turn around to see that 50 people watching the event. One hundred eyes glaring at the girlie dude with an angelic white hoodie tied around his waist. (I'm pretty sure I heard a dad from Alabama disappointingly explain to his son, "He must be French!" Don't worry, he finished it off with "Roll Tide".) Seriously, as if I didn't already feel like everyone was looking at me, this lady just reinforced this fact by making a spectacle in front of everyone!
At the end of the day when my pants had finally dried, I realized something about myself...I always try to clean my mess up with more mess. Constantly covering my shame with more shame. It's impossible to clean something with something dirty. How often do you do this when you sin? Instead of going to the person who you wronged, you try to cover up your shame with more shame (usually a little lie). How often when you sin, instead of going to Jesus for forgiveness, you try to clean up the mess yourself? You try to hide your shame. Don't you realize Jesus is the only place to go for forgiveness?
Anytime you find yourself in a situation where you have messed up, just stop and repent. Go to the person and be honest. Quit trying to fix things yourself or you'll find yourself in an even more ridiculous situation.
Question:
Have you ever had an snowballing embarrassing moment?
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