Do you believe in karma? I think I do, but I’m not sure I want to. Does it explain why my life is the way it is sometimes? Have I really been that awful that the universe needs to smite me?
Notorious M.A.G. asked herself that same question today.
Things were looking up when she got off of work early. She had a coworker drive her to the train station and she caught the train by a narrow margin. She arrived home in time to join in some family festivities, and then went to run some errands at her favorite hot spots—the bookstore and Target.
She was minding her own business when Mr. I Make Schoolgirls Swoon appeared. (He’s the kind of guy that’s nice and nice looking. He’s the kind of guy that girls traveled the length of the city to hunt down. Everyone knew of him, and after a while I think he may have lost some of his nice appeal.) Not knowing what to do or having anything in particular to say to the town hunk, Notorious M.A.G. did what any self-respecting gal would do—she fled the scene. She got to her truck and tried to peel out, but stopped short when she realized she had locked her keys in the truck. She’s a Superheroine first, and a nervous schoolgirl last; so she hopped up into the bed of the truck and fetched the keys through the cab window.
Her derrière waved proudly in the air for all to see, as if to say, “Kiss my ass!” Unfortunately, Notorious M.A.G. wasn’t feeling so confident. She had parked right in front of the store and all the patrons had a close-up view of her white flag flapping in defeat. Her butt proclaimed, “It is my calling in life to make an ass of myself.”
My thoughts and prayers go out to Notorious M.A.G.! We can all relate to those moments when we wish the earth would open and swallow us up, consuming our humiliation and embarrassment in one gulp.