Oops...

Open mouth and insert foot. No matter how hard I try to not say the wrong thing, I do. I can probably insert my foot into my mouth a good seven times in any conversation. The more I try to save it, the worse it gets.

I apologize to anyone I have ever made uncomfortable.

Somehow in the last week I've been causing not so fantastic moments, but this time it has nothing to do with what I did or did not say. Shocking.

I wish I could sit here, saying I don't know how that happened, but unfortunately, actions speak louder than words.

It began last week and I'm convinced no one from maintenance will ever enter this apartment, again. Hope nothing breaks.

It began innocently enough. My sister and I went to see West Side Story on Thursday. Because I'm a believer in being dressed appropriately for the theatre I was in the bathroom straightening my hair. Because I didn't want lose hair to stick to my shirt I was straightening my hair in my bra and a pair of basketball shorts.

You know that moment in horror movies where the audience knows someone is going to get killed because she is in just her bra?

It was kind of like that.

The day before Chris walked into the apartment, holding a piece of paper telling us maintenance would be around the next day to check smoke detectors.

By the time I was getting ready it was close to 5 p.m. so I figured they would come the next day. I need to stop thinking, figuring and assuming.

You probably know where this is going.

I had a clump of hair pinned to the top of my head, another clump in my mouth and the other side of my head looking as straight as it would be. I was looking like a hot mess.

At that moment there was a knock on the door. I yelled, "one moment." And not two seconds later the front door swung open.

For those who have not been in our apartment, the front door is in line with the bathroom door. Meaning when both doors are open you can see from the porch into the bathroom.

We stood there for about 5 seconds, staring at each other before he quickly closed the door. I fled to the bathroom to pull on a T-shirt. He knocked again and I answered.

He walked in, staring at his shoes. He walked within 10 feet of the smoke detectors, while staring at the floor and declared them in working order. Note to self, do not start a kitchen fire. There is a chance they really don't work.

On Friday I turned in a work order basically saying our kitchen sink is falling apart. Not really, but it's not important to the story.

I was taking a break from editing my novel by playing Kinect Sports Season 2. Since it was snowing outside I thought nine holes of golf would be perfect. On hole three there was a knock on the door.

I answered it, fully dressed, showed the maintenance guy the sink and went back to my golf game. My back was to him, so I couldn't see his face, but I do know I looked ridiculous. It's impossible to play Kinect and not look like a deranged bunny rabbit.

Anyway, while playing golf you need to put your hand to your eyes, like you're shading your eyes from the sun. It allows you to see the hole. You also have the ability to change your club by reaching your right hand straight out and saying what club you want.

Tons of fun.

Yes, I'm doing this in front of him. The best part of Kinect Golf? I can use my baseball/golf hybrid swing with much better results than in real life. The result? Me golfing like Goof, only my legs don't twist together.

I heard him snort.

I'm not sure if that was out of laughter or out of something from the drain going up his nose.

He had to leave and come back; when he came back I was playing Kinect Football, and was running like The Roadrunner in place.

He definitely had no idea how to proceed with that one.

At least I'm not inadvertently insulting them. That's a bonus.

What is funny about this all this, because ya' know, that wasn't funny at all, is I've also terrified the UPS delivery man.

Long story short, there was a UPS delivery man who talked to all of his customers. If you signed for something he would ask how your day was. He would see me all the time around the complex in the summer he assumed I was a teacher. I told him I was a writer trying to make money.

He began inquiring about my writing every time I signed for a delivery.

After I got married he was delivering our wedding gifts, when he noticed I changed my signature. He asked if I got married and I told him I did about three weeks ago.

The next day when he was delivering another box, he gave me a card saying, "Congratulations!" He has also given me and Chris a Christmas card.

He asked how the job search was going.

We would wave to each other when we were driving. For a while I was seeing him once or twice a month when he was delivering something to the apartment.

He was delivering a box a couple weeks ago when I commented how I hardly saw him anymore. He said it was because I stopped ordering stuff. Actually, people stopped sending us stuff. We like cookies.

Anyway...

No, I said. I haven't seen you driving around. He said he got promoted and wouldn't be delivering anymore. This was his last delivery, he was training a guy.

The guy he was training was halfway down the steps with a petrified look on his face. Like, oh my God! What have I gotten myself into?! I have to talk to people?

His poor replacement was leaving boxes on the porch for about a month before he started knocking on the door. He still looks scared when I open the door.

If I somehow insult you, terrify you, or do anything to make you uncomfortable. Please join the club and I am truly sorry. I swear I do not mean to say or do anything to intentionally hurt your feelings or anything like that.

Rest assured, it could be worse. Just ask maintenance or the UPS guy.