A Crown to Wear in Shame

So, I am fairly certain that I will never be able to look my next door neighbors in the eye again. There is a kind of humility that can only come of people seeing you in a way that requires an amazing intamacy being forced on a person. This kind of humility occured for me last night.

It is hotter than the hinges of Hell where I live. Honestly, at 11:00 at night, it must've still been in the high 90's. I was laying in bed with my husband when he rolled over and asked, "Did you lock your car?"

Having the recent string of break-in's in the neighborhood, I tried to remember...shit, I don't think I even rolled up the windows from this afternoon. I would need to do that if I planned on seeing my car ever again.

I slipped out of bed in my t-shirt and underwear and walked boldly out my front door, assured that no one in my neighborhood would awake at this time of night.

I was wrong.

There, staring at me like I was a rare, thought to be extinct creature, were my neighbors.

Shit!

Here I am half naked, having gotten all the way out to the car before they made a noise, I still had to get back into the house and I had already been spotted. Now, I got to rush my white rear end across the lawn and back to the safety of my house, knowing full well that they could just sit there and stare at my glow-in-the-dark whiteness ripple and as ran.

I am pretty sure this qualifies me as the queen of white trash for the neighborhood, as if I hadn't already won that award.

Thank you very much; my acceptance speech is still in the works.