I don’t like to admit it, but I’m afraid of falling and I avoid slippery surfaces if I can. So you might ask why I joined friends for a skating party at Rockefeller Center ice rink. The answer is I didn’t want to miss the party and I thought, how bad could it be?
Nervously I laced my skates and stepped out on the ice, hugging the rail in case I needed to catch myself. But after a while, I got more self-assured and joined the crowd that was rounding the rink in some sort of loose cohesive clump. Finally, I was feeling happy and more confident—probably a little too confident as a spinning skater zipped in front of me, and, arms flailing, I did a face-plant landing spread eagle in the middle of the ice skating rink. After a moment of shock, I looked up, knowing exactly what I would see: faces, lots of them, all staring, even pointing me out to their friends.
How embarrassing. Absurd even. I was now one of the two types of people I had looked for, even hoped to see—a beautiful skating star or a flop, because anything in between was just ordinary, boring, and to a spectator that’s not interesting.
I started laughing, realizing I’d just become interesting. Within my new context, it became a wonderful evening. After all, not everyone can say they did a face-plant in the middle of the Rockefeller Center ice skating rink.
What about you?
Have you ever been the center of onlooker's attention? Was it embarrassing or did you surrender to the absurdity of the situation and laugh?
Let me know; we’d love to hear.
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