The Lummis Elementary Honor Choir performed for the School Board of Trustees tonight. They did a fantastic job…as usual and thanks to Kim Dotts!!!!
Since I knew Brian was going to be in ND and Shawn would be at work, I asked Erin if maybe she and Kailee might like to go grab a bite of dinner after the kids performed at 5pm. Erin thought it was a good idea so we decided to stop at an Asian Buffet right around the corner from the School Board offices.
The restaurant was busy enough, and the noise level was a bit high, but that didn’t stop the four of us from talking and laughing. Somehow we got on the subject of embarrassing stories and I shared one I’d had.
It was 4th of July, 1991. Bri and I had moved here to Vegas just months earlier, but this was our first 4th in Vegas and we were going to barbeque and my folks were in town and staying with us. Mom was in the midst of making her famous potato salad and there were a few things I needed from the store. As I was heading out the front door, Bri stopped me and asked me to look and see if the store carried Pickled Okra. “Pickled Okra? Why would you want Pickled Okra??” I asked. Brian said someone at work had brought some in and offered to let him try it. He did and he liked it! “OK,” I said, “if they have it, I will pick it up.”
So off to Smith’s I went. I noticed that there was a big hook and ladder fire truck in the parking lot…I wondered if the firemen, inside shopping, might actually get to celebrate the 4th a little before they started getting called out later that night. I went into the store, grabbed a cart and started loading it up and crossing stuff off my shopping list. The last item left to find is the Pickled Okra. After getting some help to locate it, I grabbed a jar, and put it in the basket portion of my cart. Without thinking, I started to push my cart and that damn jar of okra, slid right through the “leg hole” portion of the front basket and hit the floor, shattering the glass jar, and spreading the pickle juice and okra amongst the pieces of glass.
If you’ve never experienced pickled okra, let me just say, they are slimey, slippery little buggers.
Since I was already in mid-stride, my foot came down on a piece of okra (think banana peel), and I went down amongst the okra, glass and pickle juice. Those firemen I mentioned earlier just happened to be about 15 feet away at the other end of the okra aisle. Those firemen had me up and out of the glass, okra and pickle juice and examining me for cuts faster than I knew what happened. Thankfully, only my ego was bruised and I smelled like a pickle!
I immediately checked out, without the okra, and went home, where upon I infomed Brian that if he wanted any Pickled Okra in the future, he would have to go get it himself!
Upon my conclusion of this story, in that noisy restaurant, Kailee looked at me and said, “What the heck is a ‘Pickled Oprah’?” At which point the rest of us totally cracked up!
