Milking this for all it's worth...

On the theme of embarrassing moments, I happened to add to the list significantly a few nights ago. I was returning from the first meeting of the sketch group I'm now hanging with, and thanks to a cacophony of half-developed comedic ideas I had a headache straight out of a "it's like a parade of elephants in my brain" tylenol commercial.

I needed to make a pit stop at CVS, though, cause I ran out of milk and that shit just ain't cool. A man needs his milk -- otherwise my Kix will be neither kid tested nor mother approved. So I ran into the store and picked up what I like to think of as the bachelor cocktail -- one bottle of cheapass CVS acetaminophen and a gallon of skim. I like my milk like I like my ladies -- no fatties (I just cringed typing that).

I rolled down the street and searched for parking around the apartment -- once you hit the 11 o'clock hour, an open space is a rare commodity. I managed to wedge myself in to one of those spots where you know, you just know, that your door is not going to open far enough, but dammit, you have no choice. So I did the vertical limbo trying to get out of my car with milk and drugs intact. Oh, what a fool this mortal be.

The milk was the first to go -- seeking to escape its plastic confines, the bag slipped out of my hand and created what I have dubbed a "milksplosion." Virginia's dairy finest seeped everywhere, but with my relentless optimism, I convinced myself that only the cap had popped off and I could still salvage the remainder.

So I grabbed the bag and hustled towards the apartment, only to realize the my plastic CVS bag was filling up with milk. I threw down my other possessions into the grass, hoping they would still be there when I returned, and trucked over to the garbage crusher with a bag full o' moo juice.

Little did I realize that milk was spilling from the bottom of the bag and onto my work pants. (Note to self, CVS bags are not leak proof. Who could've guessed?) I chucked the entire contents into the trash and ran back to where I had dropped my pills and various other goods.

As I walked up the stairs to the apartment, I prayed my roommate would be in bed. Who wants to explain themselves in this situation? I had milk droplets all down my legs, and bottle of pills in my hand and a bit of a sweat from running around. I look like the world's only cow junkie -- I needed a fix so bad, I took my stuff straight from the teet.

Luckily he was in bed, so I was able to hide the evidence, down a couple pills to kill the headache and settle into bed. But somewhere, right now, a cow is laughing. And that, readers, is utterly hard to swallow.