"You're Dripping"

Tuesday, February 3, 2009
8:08 pm In front of my computer, duh.

I had a little escapado this morning. The word "escapado," it turns out, has no meaning in English or in Spanish, but my family came up with it when we were vacationing in Cancun a few years ago. Our definition of an "escapado" is an "escapade" or a mishap of some kind. Now, every vacation we take together we laugh about all of the escapados we have endured on past vacations. Riding the bus this morning wasn't exactly a vacation, but there was certainly a mishap - so it counts.

I walked on to the 57 bus to Watertown Yard at precisely 8:10 (read: the bus was a minute late). I got a seat towards the front, texted my dad, and clicked on my Ipod. Through Brighton we sped until, over the sounds of Ben Lee's "Catch My Disease," I hear a woman say, "You're dripping," as she points to my bag. I look down and, to my horror, realize my hot chocolate has spilled through my bag, onto my leg, and onto the floor and the seat beside me. I thank her and proceed to panic.

Now, I know you're asking yourself, "Tara, why would you put a thermos of hot chocolate in your bag? Why wouldn't you just hold it?" Because! I got the thermos for Christmas and it has this leak guard thing that makes it spill proof! ...Unless you screw the cap on wrong. Apparently, in my rush to get ready this morning I had just thrown the cap on like some reckless daredevil. And now, as my fellow passengers watched me try to sop up liquid from my soaked pants, I was paying.

"How did you not feel it??" my mother asked me later. I really don't know. Maybe it was the fact that the hot chocolate was, well, hot, so I didn't notice the difference in temperature on my leg. Maybe I was distracted by Ben Lee's melodious voice. It's hard to say.

But I did feel it when we pulled into Watertown Yard, and I stepped off the bus. Suddenly, I was very cold - and not just where the spot was on my thigh. I was cold, well, in some rather private places. Confused, I took off my glove and placed a hand on my butt. ALL WET. Horrified, I twisted around (good thing I'm flexible) to see that the entire seat of my pants was a dark, wet splotch. I had been sitting in hot chocolate for the entire bus ride.

Body + Soul has an article in the March issue about thinking positively. One of the things you're not supposed to do when things go wrong is say, "This is the story of my life."

But it's kind of hard not to when you're a 21-year-old girl, walking down the street, looking like you wet your pants.

Love,
Tara