And there are several 60 year old women around today who claim that their hip replacement surgeries would have been wholly unnecessary if not for having endeavored to dance with me at my Bar Mitzvah party in 1963.
As a Born Klutz, I have never met a drink that my Inner Klutz didn’t recognize as a piñata. Seated at a table at a business function or social gathering, it is inevitable that a glass of some kind of beverage, preferably piping hot, will go sailing all over the table cloth and onto to the lap of the person at the table I am most trying to impress.
Usually it happens while reaching for salad dressing fated to adorn my shirt cuff til evening's end, getting a paper cut while handing out my business card to someone who will never utilize my services, or poking a passerby waitress in the ribs simultaneously with trying to wave to some guy at another table it turns out I don’t even know.
If not in these manners, the drink will be rent asunder while I’m making a grand hand gesture to accompany a conversational point that doesn’t warrant a grand hand gesture, such as:
“Oh yes, I have always been religious about flossing with the un-waxed, not the waxed!”
Once it took me 27 back and forth moves to secure my car safely in a parking space on Lombard Street in Philadelphia. Had not the cars in front of and behind me pulled out during this manuever, I’d probably yet be on Lombard Street, banging their front and rear bumpers to this day and unto eternity.
No Born Klutz needs a test to determine if he or she is a Born Klutz.
Consequently, you know you’re a Born Klutz if:
1) At a dinner party, you are routinely seated at the children’s table.
2) You open the same kitchen cabinet door into your forehead 3-4 times per month.
3) At least once in life in attempting to shake hands, you’ve tripped, fallen forward, and goosed the intended hand-shaker.
4) You have walked directly into a solid object such as a tree, a lamp post, or a family member.
5) You even saw the tree, lamppost, or family member looming in front of you and still walked directly into it.
6) You’ve gone to the Emergency Room and lied about the manner in which you received your injury because it’s just too embarrassing.
7) You have déjà vu every time you say the words “OMG, I’ll pay for that!”
8) You have glanced at your watch while holding a beverage in the hand attached to the very wrist upon which you wear your watch.
9) And did so this week.
10) You are saying to yourself, “I have known I am a Born Klutz since I was 5. Who the hell needs this quiz?”
Can gene therapy help The Born Klutz?
It ought not to be difficult to locate the dreaded Klutz Gene. It’s bouncing around erratically on its home chromosome, jarring, interrupting, and disturbing the operation of the genes adjacent to it. This is most likely the reason most Born Klutzes, among other things, daily change their minds whether they like or find incredibly annoying actor Owen Wilson.
So, is there hope for the sorry individual known as The Born Klutz?
In the meantime, my friend, I’m coming over to say hello and shake your hand!
Would you like a cup of hot coff ....