Have I ever been this humiliated? Yes, but still … [G-Rant #7]

Penny, doing what she does best.

If you’re a parent you know how it is: No matter what you’re doing, when you’re doing it, you’re rushed. There’s no such thing as leisure time when you have a kid, and if you think there is you’re probably not doing a very good job (no offense, just sayin’).

I mention the hectic nature of “adult” life because my mind has been so scattered lately I’ve been doing insanely stupid things. A few weeks ago, for example, I drove the wrong way into a one-way street … right in front of a cop … at 11:30 p.m. … and, wouldn’t you know it, my wife and I didn’t have proof of insurance OR registration with us.

Why? Because we cleaned out our glove compartment and, keeping with our cluttered mindset, forgot to put all the important documents back. The cop forgave us — it was a black cop, and I argue black cops in Colorado are cooler than whiteys because they know what it’s like to deal with prejudiced police (especially if they live in or around Greeley) — but ever since then I’ve started to realize that I’m not doing a good job of keeping my shit together.

It all culminated in a RIDICULOUS, RETARDED scene yesterday (Thursday) wherein I made a COMPLETE IDIOT out of myself. What’s worse, it happened at Costco so now I look like one of those idiots that always goes to Costco and walks around all day thinking about 4-LP bags of pretzels and how much you save, per gram, over buying at the grocery store. Or something.

Anyway, here’s what happened: I was walking around the bakery section of Costco with my daughter, Penelope, when I noticed one of the sample tables (where greedy shoppers gobble up free goodies) was empty, save for two hanging pink balloons attached to it.

Cool! After a second of thinking things through I decided, “Hey, Penny likes balloons and there are two balloons just sitting here, why not grab one and look like a hero to my cranky little demon spawn (P-Lo was having a ROUGH day, suffice to say)?”

So I did, and for the next 54 seconds, my precious Penny was happy and my shopping trip went back to being normal; I walked down a few isles, picked up a giant gunnysack full of frozen chicken and probably tasted a sample cheesestick (scratch that, I KNOW I did).

Then, out of nowhere, I made eye contact with an 80-year-old lady, of Costco employ. Thinking it was nothing, I turned away and tried to decide which microwave burrito sums me up as a person. When I turned, however, she was right next to me. I smiled and said, “Hi,” thinking she wanted to admire my adorable little snuggy lumps of a baby girl.

I was wrong. Instead, she said six semi-terse words that will haunt me for the rest of my life: “Can I have my balloon back?”

OH MY GOD-OH MY GOD-OH MY GOD WHAT IS GOING ON? I thought, not knowing what to say to this old lady I’d never seen before. I managed to eek out, “Excuse me?”

Then she laid it out for me: The balloons hanging from her sample table were HERS. They were given to her for her birthday. “That’s why one said ‘Happy Birthday’ and the other said ‘Princess,’ ” she said. I pretty much shit my pants.

Then I inadvertently insulted the woman: “I’m so sorry ma’am, the balloons looked to me like they were there for little kids or something.”

This comment did not lift her mood. She took her balloon back and — this is the best part — when she got to the end of the isle one of her co-workers asked her if she “got her balloon back,” as if a gang of balloonian thieves had come through town and snatched away her beloved float-y. My 80-year-old said “yes,” and they both turned to me and laughed me off like I was the most pathetic parent in the world.

And you know what? For a second there, I was! Extra-large props to the old lady for her accusatory tone, choice of words (“Can I have my balloon back?”? Seriously? What a crotchety old bitch!) and, especially, for assuming there were somehow ill intentions behind my grabbing a balloon for my daughter.

And there you have it: A legendary fuck-up from a guy whose slowly learning to fuck up everything that moves. CHEERS!