I should play the lottery, I reckon I’d win millions.
OK, maybe not, but I should definitely give predicting the future a go.
Why?
Oh, just a small matter of the works Christmas party on Friday night.
And because I did it. I did the ONE thing I knew I’d end up doing despite every effort not to.
I fell.
And not just a small trip either.
A full on, in your face (or on your face) fall.
On the stairs.
In my dress.
Sober.
Fuck.
I had managed to negotiate my way through the hotel in said long dress and strappy sandals, along the marbled reception, and up the first set of stairs without issue.
Why then when it was time to make my way up to the stairs that lead to the bar area did it all go horribly wrong?
Not only did I fall on the stairs but I fell on the last but one step in plain view of the 60 people stood at the bar.
Double Fuck.
A random man leaving the bar (who for the record, had consumed what smelt like a brewery way more alcohol than me and still managed to negotiate the stairs without issue) helped me up. I could have got away relatively un-noticed had I not spent some time fumbling about trying to stand up and STILL STANDING ON THE HEM OF MY DRESS!
Triple Fuck.
The only saving grace for the whole sorry affair was that my boobs didn’t fall out of the low cut front of the dress.
Still, there’s always next time.
