I will never understand people who don’t have a competitive nature. I simply cannot understand it at all! If I see two squirrels fighting, I’m taking bets in my head which one is going to come out on top. That said, I don’t always realize that I’m in super competitive mode… Sometimes it’s ok, and sometimes it leaves me face first in the mall.
Once I was at the mall with my mother. I couldn’t have been much more than 14 or 15. The mall opens an hour earlier than the shops so this odd subset of society can get up and walk laps… they are aptly referred to as “Mall Walkers.” In this day and age of Zombies and the Walking Dead, that actually sounds far scarier than it is. These “Mall Walkers” get up early, and do this odd little swishy-step walk all around the mall. It involves excessive hip swinging, and arm pumping, and is also accompanied by a revolting amount of cheeriness. I never support cheeriness…
Now, it is relevant to mention, at this point here, that I was the recent and very proud owner of a pair of, what I now realize were HIDEOUS, Adidas sneakers. These sneakers were lime green and metallic silver, low topped, with little hooks at the top eye, to wrap your lace loops around, to keep them from flopping around. These hooks were to be my public undoing.
Now, back to the mall, and said walking. As I’m watching these old men and woman ditty bop all around the mall, swinging and swishing, I was overtaken by a sudden urge to mall walk FASTER.. or maybe better. Ok, I have no idea what the actual urge was. But there I went. Arms swinging, hips switching, gliding like Bonnie Blair in athletic shoes. Let me tell you, I was SMOKING those old farts. That is to say, for about 4 full “swish-swing” rotations. Then, the right shoelace loop flopped free and decided to try and hook back onto the LEFT shoe’s hooks. Are you familiar with “Bolas?” It’s a rope with weights on the end that you swing over your head, and fling at the legs of whatever you’re trying to catch? Said animal typically goes face first into the dirt as their legs are instantaneously wrapped up. Yeah, it was kind of like that.
I laid there for a second, STUNNED. Then I had to try and untangle my laces, stand up, and dust off my rumpled pride. I feel it’s important to mention that while I’m trying to peel myself off of the floor, my mother and her best friend were literally bent over, SOBBING with laughter… Jerks.
The reason behind the title, clearly has nothing to do with sneakers, face plants, or mall walkers. Although at this point, the egg thing is far less funny, when you compare it to the previous story, I suppose. My point was to illustrate how competitive nature is a part of my very core, and look where THAT got me. But I’ve still not grown out of it, and I think there is very little chance. Not that long ago, my husband was peeling a hard boiled egg. I walked through to toss something in the trash, and saw that he was peeling it SLOWLY, and very badly. So I, subconsciously, decided that I needed to show him up, and I grabbed an egg too. I peeled it, quickly, with deft motions, and went to walk out with my egg. I hear “do you feel better now?” Um, I’m sorry, what? “Do you feel better? You peeled your egg faster, can you go back about your day now?”
Heh, I guess other people are catching on to my slightly competitive nature as well… whoops!