tell it to me straight

Mustard on my shirt.


A glob of ranch dressing in my hair.


BBQ sauce on my right cheek.


Spinach crammed in between my two front teeth.


All happenings that a trendy, trying to be cute, city girl would prefer to avoid when out in public. Or, at the very least, would like to be notified of immediately so she can diffuse the situation.


John, the eternal honest guy, recently informs me oh-so delicately that I have a "problem" with food.


A problem? What do you mean a problem???


Apparently any time that ketchup (or any other condiment that can be quickly removed from the entree) is in my vicinity, it winds up on my face like I'm a walking advertisement. Like Heinz just paid me 50k to embarass myself.


As always, I call him a "liar" and immediately storm into the bathroom to disprove his accusation. I've even gone so far as to call a waiter to the table from across the restaurant for confirmation. Crappy thing is, he's always right! grrrrrrrr. So here I've been floating on this happy, I'm a neat eater, cloud my whole life. I've been living a lie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This could only mean one of two things -

a) I develop a wierd twinge when I'm with him, and only him, that causes me to splatter food on myself

OR

b) This is an on-going problem that no one bothered to help me with.


And if it is the latter of the two, then I just have to know... WHY HAS NO ONE TOLD ME BEFORE???


How many dates have I ruined because I unknowingly wore my leftovers? Or worse, is this a topic of conversation when my friends are alone.... "did you see Courtney's face after she ate that last piece of pizza at lunch today?"



On behalf of myself and all of the other sloppy, tragically unaware, people out there, please don't be embarrassed to pass my way and say "you have some grody goo stuck to the side of your chin!"