Whoever built the plaza that houses my law firm is either very tight-fisted or very outdated or both. My office is located at the very top of the building; 4 floors up, and without a single elevator in the entire building.
But I'll lament about that some other day coz in truth, the height "is great weightloss therapy for me" (seriously if you believe that statement, I have nothing to say to you) and I've also gotten used to huffing and puffing up those stairs whilst maintaining the famous British stiff upper lip. Plus it does discourage unserious clients as I've been told. I mean if someone takes 4 flights of stairs up in the unfriendly Abuja heat, you had better believe they mean business. 😎😎😎
Anyway, today something happened. It was 1:38pm and I was already backed up on time to complete some assignments outside the office. I raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time in my haste, my thoughts whirling as I tried to figure out the best way to utilise the little time I had left.
Friday came early for me today which explains why I was dressed in a native top, jeggings and a pair of girly sandals; very casual for a workday but it ended up saving my ankle and probably a few other joints.
As I reached the second floor on my way down, still taking the stairs two at a time, I'll never be able to explain what happened next. I'm half convinced the stairs moved when I wasn't looking: One minute I was racing down the stairs, next I had lost my footing and was sliding down at an alarming rate. I tried to break my fall but realised I would only hurt myself more and so I just went with it. To my amazement I landed on my butt on the last stair; absolutely unhurt.
The noise though must have sounded like a bag of rice hitting concrete at 60km per hour or something because the guy seated in an office facing the stairs jerked around at the sound. His gaze flew to mine in confused alarm and I could see him already half-rising from his seat evidently bent on rushing to rescue the pretty damsel whose butt was currently keeping the staircase clean. 😂😂😂
My reaction amazed me; I was convulsed in laughter. I raised a hand and offered him a cheerful wave, unable to get a word out as I slapped my thighs in helpless laughter at myself. Automatically, he offered me a wave too, his handsome features wreathed in confusion. I could see him now trying to decide if he needed to get the Firstaid box or strap me in a straitjacket. He couldn't look away; and no wonder. Who laughs at themselves right?
As a kid, if I ever fell down, I became so embarrassed and mortified that I proceeded to transfer the agression to everyone in the vicinity who had witnessed my "misfortune". Looking now at office guy, I realised I had grown up when I wasn't looking; I didn't feel embarrassed in the least, I just wished I had caught it all on camera.
I was still whooping with laughter as I choked out an order across the space separating us, "Pretend you didn't see me!"
He understood at once and obligingly averted his gaze, leaving me to nurse my wounded sensibilities in dignified privacy --- such a gentleman. Sigh. Although I did see his shoulders shaking with suppressed mirth at the impromptu performance he had just been treated to.
Well I don't mind telling you my sensibilities were just fine, thank you. I simply couldn't get over the fact that for the first time in my adult life, I had actually slipped and fallen down and there had been a witness. Honestly I've always secretly wondered what my reaction would be if I were ever to fall down in public. Now I knew--- it was the most hilarious experience I'd had in weeks.
Morale of the story?
Tsk, tsk. What have I been trying to tell you? There's no Morale to this story. Stop taking yourself too seriously and learn to laugh at yourself sometimes; then even if people do laugh, they would be laughing with you and not at you.
PS: If you've had a similar experience, I would sure like to hear it. No be only me waka come. 😘
(c) 2017 Sherina Okoye
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