another embarrassing tale

I have previously described this event as the second most embarrassing incident in my life when I wrote about my white nissan sentra misadventure. Though I had no plans of reliving this infamous faux pas, it was shoved back into my consciousness after witnessing a similar stumble yesterday.

Wherever I go I would always try to blend in, I didn’t want to attract attention as this makes me self-conscious. I get paranoid whenever I get the feeling that people are looking at me. I almost feel that they are watching my every move, maybe because that’s what I usually do to other people. Ha ha, it takes one to know one! I always look for corner seats in a bar or resto to be inconspicuous, and a good vantage point for people-watching at the same time. The same is true in church (of all places) where I would always choose to sit at the back. But come communion time paranoia would again set in as this would mean walking to the front to receive the sacrament.

It was no different one particular Sunday some four years ago when I went to church in Lipa City, at the site of the miraculous rain of rose petals in 1948. Seated at the back, I was again feeling
self-conscious with my unfamiliar surroundings as this wasn’t the usual church I go to. Two close friends had not been there and were curious about this miraculous church so I volunteered to take them - the makings of a tour guide. But little did I know that I would become an attraction myself!

The mass was dull and boring, thanks to the priest (is this blasphemy?), as usual. When it was time for communion I waited until almost everybody was finished before I stood up, again uneasy to stand in line longer than necessary for fear of being stared at, scrutinized. But seeing that the line in front was almost done I walked faster to catch up. Before I knew it, I tripped on something and fell flat on the ground! I could hear the loud thud echoing around the building as I dropped on the marble floor a few paces from the priest’s feet.

I must have been on the floor a mere three to five seconds but it seemed like an eternity. Though I didn’t detect any injury I knew that my ego was badly bruised (shattered was more like it). I didn’t want to get up. I knew people were looking in my direction. For someone who didn’t crave attention this was sheer punishment. Arrgh! At that instant I wanted to be invisible, and if I had the power stop time or disappear I would have used it outright! Unfortunately, I didn’t and had no choice but to face the music. As I stood up I could hear muted giggles and whispers around me. I couldn’t look around, afraid to see stares from everyone. Instead, I walked a step to the waiting priest for my unfinished business, receiving communion. But as I looked up at his face and opened my mouth to receive the sacrament, all I could see was a middle-aged man in priestly vestments trying to keep a straight face! His face was all red and he looked like he was going to burst into laughter at any second. I turned around and walked away as fast as I could. To this day I cannot even recall if I received communion at all. Did I turn to walk away before receiving the sacrament? Or was the experience too traumatic for me to remember if I received communion? Ha ha ha.

I didn’t return to my seat but proceeded outside to the safety of my car. I didn’t even finish the mass. I couldn’t go back. I would have died of embarrassment if I did. I stayed in the air conditioned confines of my car, hiding behind tinted windows waiting for my two friends who were still in church. A few minutes later they arrived, laughing their hearts out. There was nothing I could do but to laugh along with them, at myself. Waaaah.