Getting older seems to be having some challenges for me; so much so that my husband jokingly tells me “I’m making quite a reputation for myself.”  Hesitantly, I will share the experiences of the past couple of months with you. Feel free to laugh with me…just don’t laugh at me.

About two months ago we went to lunch at our favorite Mexican Restaurant and mom went with us. I strongly dislike using public restrooms, however….this particular day it couldn’t be avoided. Although I was born in Oklahoma, I moved to CA around 1960 and lived there until 2005. One thing I like about CA is they have “seat protectors” in the restrooms. Most places I’ve had to visit in Oklahoma do not have them. This place didn’t!! This restaurant also has all male waiters, occasionally, on weekends there will be some female help. We visited on a weekday.

Let me set the scene for you….I’m dressed in black slacks and a mostly black top. The restrooms are in the back of the restaurant, nestled between two dining areas. I reached the Ladies Room, turned the knob and the door is locked; I wait… Shortly one of the male waiters exits the Ladies Room. My first thought, after the initial shock and double take to make sure I’m waiting outside the right door is “he’s probably adjusting some hidden camera.” I admit- I may be a teeny bit paranoid. I enter the room; did I mention there is a “green cloud” gag…gag… in the room?  My first order of business is to quickly line the ‘throne’ with nice long strips of toilet paper, sit down, drain my aching bladder, pull slacks up quickly, wash hands, leave room before being overtaken by green cloud left by previous occupant. Did I also mention; there’s no full length mirror? As I exit, four male waiters are standing at the end of the hallway waiting to assist any patrons who may enter the restaurant. I begin my walk back to our booth. As I reach our booth my husband gets up to let me in, and at the same horrifying moment, we both realize I have a very long white TP tail. (Larry calls me “Bon”) He said “Bon” with a hushed urgency, “you have something hanging from your slacks”…I’m already gasping in shock, crunching the paper tail up in my hands as quickly as possible and trying to sit down and act very nonchalant at the same time. I’m feeling hot…silently praying this isn’t really happening. (Yes! I’ve heard stories about old ladies and TP.) I was so embarrassed I’m sure my face was emitting its own light show in various shades of crimson red.

I’m sure they are still laughing and they probably all had their cell phones out snapping pictures. In case you’re wondering…we have been back. I sucked it up-held my head high and walked back in. After all, no one in their right mind would dare mention the incident to me. Right???

The second incident happened at our Thursday night bible class. We were enjoying our study in the Boogan’s beautiful patio. My bible was in front of me and I noticed a black bug at the top of my page. I discreetly turned my bible around to knock it off the page. As I did, I noticed it wasn’t a bug; rather it was a small black-jumping spider. Now, I don’t like bugs at all and especially not spiders. He took a couple of quick jumps and lands right in my lap. Next thing I realize; I’m shrieking and jumping myself…trying to scoot my chair back without tipping it over and to get away from the spider. Everyone is looking at me as if I suddenly “got the Spirit”. (Remember the Ray Stevens Song about “Mississippi Squirrel Revival”?) Well that was almost me! (The spider is now in its “happy place.”)

The third and hopefully last incident happened last Saturday. During the week I had purchased a new top. Saturday I wore my new top. I examined it for hanging tags and cut one from the underarm area. I’m out running errands, Larry is at mom’s doing some yard work and I drive over there to see him for a minute. My next stop is at Wal-Mart to pick up some groceries. I get a phone call from our Youth Minister, Ron. He very calmly tells me he’s having some chest discomfort, and wants to know what Larry and I are doing. I explained where we were and told him I would be right over. I get to his house, and we drive first to the local doctor, who doesn’t take his insurance so next we drive to Owasso to the hospital. An ER nurse meets me at the car and takes him into ER. I’m sitting in the waiting room until I can go back to see him. Another young man comes in and introduces himself. He is Allen, the Youth Minister from an Owasso congregation. After a few minutes the receptionist informs us we can go into Ron’s room. After about ten minutes I notice Allen keeps looking at my “chest” area, so much so that I’m getting a bit uncomfortable. I look down to see what the fascination might be and as I do, he begins stammering, somewhat uncomfortably; and politely informs me that I still have the size sticker on the front of my shirt. I look down again and sure enough…there it is; a three inch piece of sticky label with the size printed vertically about 6 times right across my boob. Mind you…I’ve already made several stops and not one person has mentioned this to me. Yes…it was a printed design and hopefully…no one else really saw it. When I got home and told Larry, that’s when he told me “I’m making quite a reputation for myself.” Yessirree…I’m a laugh a minute! If y’all want to book me for your next gig-just give me a holler.