A scene in the life of whatever:
Last Tuesday night, I was at a fancy dinner party, enjoying wine and a string quartet (!!!) and food and hospitality and trying rather hard to impress those in attendance. I'd been mentally repeating "be a grown-up, be charming, don't make an ass of yourself", and it seemed to be working.
I excused myself after dinner to use the bathroom, and as I approached the sink, went for what I thought was a hand-pump of soap on the sink. No, it was a hand-pump canister of lotion, and that lotion shot out and splotched across the lap of my black cocktail dress.
Of course it did.
I stood there looking at myself in the mirror for a few moments, sizing up the gigantic white glob of lotion, and thinking about how utterly unsurprised I was that this particular thing happened to me. Typical, really.
I managed to scrape off the lotion, mostly, and wet the dress to rinse off the remainder. So then I walked back into the dinner party with a large wet spot on the front of my dress, but that was much preferable to an awkward goopy white stain.
Next time I leave the house, I'm just going to pour something on myself as I head out, to save the universe the trouble of finding new things to maim my appearance with.