Feel the Burn

Today, I went to Starbucks to be classy and read the paper and kill some time and do the obligatory caffeination. So I got my unfortunately hard to memorize Venti Soy Misto, more coffee than milk, with vanilla bean powder. (Once they put protein powder in instead. Another time, they said, "More milk than coffee, right?" Sigh.) I was trying enjoy my morning before a trip to, well, the gyno. There's nothing embarassing or gross about it, people, every woman goes every year. I'm not giving you the details, it's just where I was headed.

So I sat down with the Monday Times, the Arts section, but of course, reading an article about a woman who used to be on CNN and now is on the Onion News Network, and...HOLY SHIT MOTHERFUCKER. Thought my subext. And I probably said something similarly outloud, because as an actor, we are told not to swallow our impulses but rather live on them and in the moment. And in that moment, I was feeling the burn.

The scalding hot coffee spilled - the cap to the drink wasn't on securely - and the coffee spilled in between my thighs. Yup. I was bound to have welts. Insert number degree burns. A man came over and gave me some napkins to help me with the spill on the table, and I thanked him and waddled (yes, waddled) my way over to the restroom to put water in between my legs, which I know better than to do in public most of the ti me, and to make sure there wasn't any serious damage on my inner thighs. I could just imagine my impending appointment - "well, all is fine in that area, but what's going on with those welts in between your legs? Is everything all right in your interpersonal relationships?"

I checked out the damage, and it looked fine, but it was painful, and there was some legit redness. I remembered that I left my coffee out in the open. Ihoped no one stole it. Or poisoned it. Or put drugs in it. Unless it was Vicodin, which could very well help facilitate the course of my burning sensation...

I waddled back out, probably overdramatizing the fact that I had just been burnt, and the man who handed me napkins was sitting at a table drinking his coffee and reading the paper. He asked me if all was allright; if I was okay.

"Yeah," I said, "I'm just pretty badly burnt, and it hurts to walk..."

And I walked by him to where my coffee was, and I saw that he had a metal leg. Yes, a missing leg and an implant, like the people in the meningitis vaccination commercial. And I told him it hurt to walk.

And I thought, "on my way to the gyno, I spilled scalding hot coffee in between my legs" belonged on FML.com.

I was a little saddened that the baristas didn't notice, and I wondered if I should have complained. I remembered a few years back how someone sued McDonald's because she or he spilled scalding coffee in between his or her legs and got badly burnt. But I like Starbucks. I didn't want to sue them.

And for the record, the welts aren't that bad, and I can walk right now.

I'm a terrible person.

Til next time,
Small Fry/That Girl...