Monday, January 29, 2007

I WON'T GROW UP - YOU CAN'T MAKE ME

Cindy says: Once a year whether I need to or not I plan on making a fool of myself – not to be confused with the times I do it by accident. 2006’s planned event occurred last summer at RWA Nationals in an Atlanta sports bar where a bunch of us had just ordered Margaritas. My 'friend' - let's call her Kim because that's her name - motioned behind me and says: "Fifty bucks if you can get that guys' name, room number and a date."

Now let’s get something straight up front. I’m a grandmother and a happily married woman so naturally, after checking the guy out I said: “Let me finish this drink and you’re on.” It wasn't just a bet, people. It was a DARE. And this woman rarely backs away from a dare. So, five minutes later, fortified by tequila and stupidity, I made my move. But not before Kim said: “You can’t tell him it’s a bet or the bet’s off.” “Fine,” I said, shook her hand and headed for my mark.


“Hi,” I said to Mr Gorgeous and slipped onto the stool next to him. He, on the other hand, said nothing - even though his mouth dropped open. “Don’t panic,” I said – because clearly he was on the verge. “I’m here on a bet.” There is no honor among thieves, after all, and we were out of voice range of Kim. So I told him about the $50 bucks on the line. He thought it was hysterical and played along. I played the mom card to get him relaxed and we talked about his kids, my grandkids all the while making fake goo goo eyes at each other and I assured him that all romance writers weren’t this immature. Then I shoved a napkin toward him, gave him a pen and told him to write down a 4 digit number, any 4 digit number, and asked him to please just stop by my table when he left and say, “see you later.”

Triumphant, I returned to my table. I slapped down the napkin and smirked. “Here’s his room number and I’m seeing him later tonight.” Dumbfounded, Kim shook her head and dug into her purse. “Forget it,” I said. “I owe you. This is going to be the best night of my life. You guys can come too if you want to.”


“You’re not serious!” my other friend – let’s call her Rox because that’s her name - went into shock, wondering if Kim and I had actually crossed the line this time. (You guessed it, this wasn’t the first time we’d pulled a stupid stunt.)


About that time, over strolls Mr Gorgeous, stops at our table, touches a hand to my shoulder and says, “Orgy’s at 11:00, Miss Cindy. See you then.” And then, bless him, he winked and sauntered away.


Rox went ten shades of pale, Kim shook her head and I basked in the glow of my victory. Yeah, and an hour (and about $50 worth of margaritas) later I confessed to telling him about the bet. Immature I may be but I’m honest to a fault.


Was it a juvenile stunt? You damn betcha. Was it fun? And then some. Could it have been embarrassing?

Well, yeah. Could we have laughed any harder?

I don’t think so. And the next day did I hear myself repeatedly saying: “I can’t believe I did that.” Yep. My hubby can’t believe I did it either but he still grinned when I told him the story.


So I guess the point is (and there really is a point), sometimes it’s good to put yourself out there, do something foolish, have a good laugh and quit taking yourself so seriously.


Anybody do that lately? Anyone have any silly, immature, “I can’t believe I did that” stories they’d like to share? Hummm? Or am I out here on this quaking limb all by myself?

11 comments:

Unknown said...

Cindy, you minx you! Remind me never to bet against you in a poker game! (I don't play poker, so this is a safe thing to avoid.)

I did once-- on a dare-- accost the guy who played the Assistant Director Skinner of the FBI on the X-Files. He was gracious and a lot skinnier in person than he appeared on TV. We had a chuckle or two and I asked when he was going to do another movie. He of course was flattered and made sure to tell me he was there with his girlfriend. Party pooper.

But I just realized that I've been sensible and restrained for way too long. I used to do nutty stuff occasionally just to keep my hand in. Haven't done anything crazy for a while now. . . except that internet dating thing, which horrified my family.

One question, Cin. Exactly what is that young woman in the pic doing? playing music to her nippies with headphones while wearing a Napoleon hat with a Mohawk? I'm still puzzling about that. . . since my first impression wasn't headphones, but electrodes. AGHHHH. I think I've been reading too many RITA entries.

:) Betina

Helen Brenna said...

Cindy, I'm hanging with you next conference. Save a "planned" stunt for then, okay?

Me, silly, immature stunts, lately?

Unfortunately, no. I could do with a vaca with my sister - things always seem to happen when my bad influence is around.

Betina ... internet dating. Hmmm, there's a story there somewhere. And I'm with you. That picture is something else. Is it a phone she's got up to her, as Michele would say, tatas?

Cindy Gerard said...

You've still got it in you Betina!! i just know you do!! :o) And that little incident was just the tip of the iceberg. I could tell you about the time I was barefoot in evening wear penniless on Time Square at 1:00 in the morning - but i won't. I COULD tell you about the time I dressed up in a green nun's habit and went shopping for zucchini - but I won't. And I could tell you .... nah. I'd better not.
And as for the girl and the headseat: I thought she was tuning it with her breasts. All I know is she looks like my kind of woman.

Cindy Gerard said...

Helen - absolutely. We can figure something out at conference. It's in Dallas, right? Maybe we'll save a steer and wrestle a cowboy:o)

Helen Brenna said...

Yep, Cindy, it's in Dallas. You can save the steer and I'll wrestle the cowboy!

Debra Dixon said...

Cindy--

That's fabulous! I love it. You're the poster child for remaining relevant. See, I have a theory that the moment you aren't willing to risk making a fool of yourself to save the world, yourself, your family or even just to avoid boredom...it's time to stick a fork in you. You're done.

We have to put ourselves out there in lots of ways. (No, I did not say you had to "put out." Geez. I said "put yourself out *there*!)

So, I'm with you! I'm refusing to grow up and I pledge to plan at least one way a year to make a fool of myself. Won't take that much planning. Trust me.

Cindy Gerard said...

Atta girl, Deb. I know you can do it. I think we should all take the pledge. A good friend once told me that every once in a while you should do something that scares you. My scare for this year is a rafting trip down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. If I can live through the helicopter ride that delivers me to the river, I think I can tackle the rapids. besides - they have cute guides :o) Figure there's a built in op to make a fool of myself. Lo)

Christie Ridgway said...

Cindy: I think I met you for the first time right after that little stunt last year at the conference. ::snicker:: Love it.

I'm trying to think of something wild and crazy I've done recently and nothing is coming to mind (the dang deadlines are all that's in my head) but I did freak out this darling young man at the gym today by asking him if he was married. (He'd been telling me about his 13 yr old daughter who was conceived when he was in the Marines and about to deploy.)

I wanted to know for a character in a book, okay? Really! I was wondering if his very youthful, impulsive marriage had lasted. I tried to tell him that but I'm not sure if he believed me. And I didn't want to rush into all this happily married stuff about myself (I am) because I didn't want him to think I thought he thought I was hitting on him.

You guys know what I mean.

Keri Ford said...

Hey Cindy!

Most of my stupidy is accidental.

Just one example:

My husband and I were road-tripping and were trying to figure out how much longer it'd be until we got there. Well, I showed my educational smarts and explained to him that if we were going 45mph, then we'd make it 60 miles in 1 hour.

"What?" he nearly ran off the road to look at me.

I went through it all agian, being clear and thorough.

He started explaining that I was wrong. But no way was I wrong. I knew I had it right and went through it a THIRD time. Finally he broke it down for me and said, "Look here, 60. Miles. Per. Hour. I don't know how else to explain it."

My bad.

Christie Ridgway said...

Keri: My husband is a math teacher and this kind of thing happens to me all the time. I know that look they can give.

I tell myself I'm a much better speller than he is.

Cindy Gerard said...

Keri - HA. sounds like an argument I'd make. My sister is the queen of logic. One of my favorites of hers goes: "Christmas falls on a holiday this year."
Well, duh :o)
gotta love it.
CG