Do you have those people in your life who can get your Giggle Meter skyrocketing with just one look? I sure hope so. Girl on the Contrary’s hilarious post about a recent elevator trip had me reminiscing about all those times I’ve laughed inappropriately. Like this:
For me, I think it all started with one of my very first best friends, a sporty, feisty girl I met in nursery school at the local YMCA. Everything was funny to her – even getting in trouble. We used to play a made-up game where we’d blindfold each other and then feed the blindfolded person something and make them guess what it was. She will never let me live down the time I gave her a spoonful of bacon grease from the coffee can my dad used to pour it into. I could barely hold the spoon still; suppressed laughter had me shaking from head to toe.
Luckily, since then, my nursery school pal and I have had many more giggle-fests that were mutual. Other fits have been dangerous. Being in your late twenties and losing control in a business meeting, for example, is like taking your livelihood into your own hands. The more inappropriate it is to laugh, the harder it always seems not to, right? Last year, I was running a meeting where the focus was on electronic solutions for our current work. I had a few people in the room and the rest were attending virtually. The I.T. rep must have spiked her coffee that afternoon, because she just started laughing uncontrollably whenever anyone would ask a question. She was already two baby steps away from the place with the padded walls, and lack of sleep had apparently done her in. Every time I tried to rescue her and get things back on track, she’d look at me, red-faced, tears streaming down her face, and get me going, too. I’m not exaggerating when I say this went on for 5 minutes. No, I don’t know why I’m still employed. I guess it could have been worse:
Usually I have at least one episode whenever I’m with Babs. It’s kind of like the guarantee you get when you go to Friendly’s – service with a smile, or the meal’s on them. There are a thousand of these times I can’t remember, but they often start with me teasing Babs while we’re out shopping. I do so with a loving heart, to make sure she never starts wearing mom jeans or those puff-painted sweatshirts (again). Department store dressing rooms are like an altar where I give thanks to the giggle gods by trying on hideous things and transforming into the person who would wear them. Retired, chain-smoking Floridian? Snooki’s second cousin (the one no one likes to talk about)? Stripper trying to cover her dark past and pay her way through college? Been there, donned that.
I’d love to hear about some of your ‘episodes’ (the more inappropriate, the better)! Until then, I’ll leave you with a giggly clip of one of my favorite shows:
Go Jules Go 