Humiliation

- it happens to those of us who used to be silly little girls.

When I was 20, I worked in a bar & grill called Old Chicago and I had a massive crush on the bar manager, Nathaniel. Nathaniel would hang out with his co-workers, but they usually went out to bars or clubs and being a minor, this never included me. Needless to say, nothing ever became of my crush. Eventually, Nathaniel was transferred to one of the chains' locations in Idaho and our co-workers threw him a going away party.
Being young and dumb and full of... emotion, I wrote Nathaniel a sappy and terrible poem confessing my crush, suffered an extreme lapse in good judgment, and delivered it to him -wait for it- at his party.

I never saw or heard from Nathaniel again - until last night.

It was a typical day yesterday and I decided to wait for Pancho to get off work at a sports bar in the Marriott which is a popular hang-out among Pancho’s co-workers. I recognized one of them, Jason, when I arrived and was happy to sit at the bar next to him instead of having to sit alone.
I was half way into my first glass of wine when I caught him in the corner of my eye. My brain denied the possibility at first, but panic set in when he turned and I got a better look at his face. It was Nathaniel. And he appeared to be in uniform. Paranoid observations led me to the conclusion that he works at one of the restaurants in the hotel and after we made eye contact I silently prayed that he wouldn’t come over and say anything, and if he did, that I would spontaneously combust.
"Is it hot in here?" I tried to cover for the bright shade of red my face was no doubt turning. "It’s probably the wine" Jason offered and I quickly agreed.
Later, Pancho joined us and began to make observations of his own. "I think that guy knows you or something because he keeps looking over here and smiling." I laughed nervously. "Yeah I think we used to work together at Old Chicago. He was a manager."
Mercifully, someone suggested we move to a table in a secluded corner of the bar and we were out of sight before anything mortifying took place.

The more I think about it, the funnier the situation becomes and the more comfortable I am with the possibility of confrontation on the matter. I think that’s one of my favorite things about growing up - you get better at laughing at yourself, you learn to be more forgiving of yourself and you become your own testament that life does in fact go on.