This One Time . . .

The first half of this year I tutored twice a week at the library. For a couple months in a row, every time I walked into the building I was asked to sign a petition for some political something or other. Normally I patiently listened to a quick synopsis of the issue, then either signed or politely declined.

One day I was cranky from my day at work, was tired of consistently getting hit up to sign a piece of paper when all I wanted to do was walk into the library, and had simply reached my patience and politeness limit. In what was admittedly not my best moment, I said something snarky to poor Petition Pete (not his real name) as I hurried into the building. Five seconds later, realizing that I was still wearing my sunglasses (prescription) and had left my regular glasses out in the car, I regretted that decision. I had picked the wrong moment to feign bravado. I was too embarrassed to run out to the car, grab my glasses, then run back in because I'd have to shamefully scurry across the path of Petition Pete not once but twice.

I am not a tough person, just a chicken with really bad vision, so I ended up wearing my sunglasses inside for a couple hours.