I hate it when my face turns a brilliant shade of embarassed red.<\/p>\n
It doesn’t happen very often. When people try to embarass me, I simply
\nrevell in the noteriety, making their insinuations even bigger than they
\nplanned. I love it when someone gets embarrassed themselves while trying to
\nmake me blush. I like to say that the only person who can embarass me is
\nmyself. Even when I do something stupid, I’m usually able to turn it into a
\njoke. But tonight that wasn’t really possible.<\/p>\n
I attended a Seder, the traditional Jewish Passover feast, put on by a local
\nMessianic Jewish congragation and held at a local hotel ballroom. It was
\nfun. This is the third time I’ve attended it. I drank two glasses of wine.
\n But although they made my ears buzz, that was AFTER my face had turned
\ncrimson.<\/p>\n
Before the ceremony began, I took my grandmother, who uses a wheelchair to go
\nlong distances, to the restroom. While I was waiting for her, I noticed
\nthree rings sitting on the counter. Closer examination revealed a monogram
\nring, what looked like an engagement ring, and another expensive looking
\npiece of finger jewelry. I told my grandmother I’d be right back and trotted
\ndownstairs to the front desk to tell the man behind the counter about my
\nfind. He suggested I bring them to him, so I ran back upstairs, retrieved
\nthe rings, and left them at the front counter.<\/p>\n
About halfway through the ceremony, someone at the front announced that one
\nof the ladies there had lost three rings that were very special to her in the
\nladies room and that… “They’re at the front desk,” I spoke up, figuring
\nthat was a good enough place to interrupt. Every head in the room turned
\ntoward me. It was about then that I felt the blood rushing upward. “You
\ntook them to the front desk?” asked the announcer. “Yeah, I took them
\nthere.” “You found them?” “Yes,” I answered again, “I found them. They’re
\nup front.” Whatever else the person up front was saying was lost as the room
\nwas suddenly filled with applause. That was when my face probably turned a
\ncolor akin to purple.<\/p>\n
I was chewing a bite of chicken a little later when a woman walked up to me,
\nsniffled, and asked, “Are you the lady who found my daughter’s rings?” I
\nnodded while hurriedly swallowing. “Thank you so much!” she sobbed, throwing
\nher arms around my neck. “Mmmmff,” I replied into her shoulder. “You don’t
\nknow how much this means to her!” she continued and rattled off something
\nabout how one of them was her grandmother’s ring, and she died last week or
\nsome such. She finally released me and said thank you one more time. “No
\nproblem,” I shrugged.<\/p>\n
Another lady, I guess her daughter, the one whose rings they were, came up.
\n She looked like she had been crying. “Thank you, thank you! Give me your
\naddress! I’ll send you Christmas cards! Birthday cards!” “Uh,” I shifted
\nuneasily and shrugged uselessly while she continued to chatter excitedly.
\n Finally, they all left me alone so I could finish my dinner.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I hate it when my face turns a brilliant shade of embarassed red. It doesn’t happen very often. When people try to embarass me, I simply revell in the noteriety, making their insinuations even bigger than they planned. I love it when someone gets embarrassed themselves while trying to make me blush. I like to…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":5,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-413","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-nonclassified-nonsense"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/413","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/5"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=413"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/413\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=413"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=413"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/nachzen.net\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=413"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}