Believe it or not, sometimes I do things that are embarrassing. I always start out with good intentions, but somehow I end up in a twisted mess of missteps and humiliation.
Take this thing that happened last week, for instance.
I was at work, and the agency was busy busy busy. Recognizing this, my boss asked me to call in a pizza order for a surprise staff lunch. So, I did.
Jillian: “…and I think that completes my order!”
Girl at the Pizza Place: “Ok, great. You can pick that up in about 30 minutes. What’s your first name?”
Jillian: “Jillian.”
Pizza Girl: “Ok, Jillian. Now, I have a last name associated with the phone number you’re calling from: Wyatt? Is that right?”
That’s Bryan’s last name. He must have used my cell phone last time he ordered pizza.
Pizza Girl: “Jillian Wyatt?”
Jillian: “………yes. That’s right. Jillian Wyatt is my name.”
OK, OK! I know that’s not my name. Whatever.
I hung up the phone and giggled like a middle school girl who doodles her crush’s name on her English folder every day during 5th Period.
- Yes, it was embarrassing that I’m 29 years old and I lied to a pizza girl about my last name to fulfill some sparkly fantasy.
- No, it wasn’t really that big of a deal.
- Yes, it was kind of psycho, but…
- No, I figured I’d never tell anyone I did it. It was my little secret.
- Plus, who could blame me? My boyfriend was on some biking voyage, for goodness sake! I missed him! And if recording my personal Zumba dance routines and temporarily taking Bryan’s last name were how I chose to deal with my emotions, that’s perfectly fine and lovely. Cast ye the first stone and whatnot.
Then I got to the restaurant.
Pizza Girl: “Jillian Wyatt?”
Jillian: “[Giggle] Yes. That’s me.”
Pizza Girl: “Here are your pizzas!”
Oh.
Oh, boy.
Quickly, I shuffled out of the restaurant and shoved the pizzas in my car. Then, I drove back to the office where I had the pleasure of carrying the boxes through the building and into the kitchen, WYATT blazing for all of my coworkers to see.
Damn it, Jillian.
Jillian Wyatt 