Ping-Pong-Ding-Dong

Here's a little story that demonstrates my lack of coordination, or "akward grace", as I like to call it. I mean, I've always played sports and things like that, and I'm awesome at the tight-rope walk on the Wii Fit, but when it comes to practical movement and spacial awareness, I suck. Badly.

I arrived at the liquor store on Christmas Day for some last minute gifts for my friend Chrissie and my brother's...well...whateversheis, Dara. So after looking for a couple nice bottles of roijas (apparently the don't carry it), I decided on some Blueberry Champagne made by a local winery. I brought it up to the counter, and asked the checkout girl if she could wrap them, as I had no time for that business. Actually, they're lucky that they didn't receive the bottles wrapped hobo-style in a paper bag. So I paid for these items, and gave the girl $5.00 for slipping them into mylar bags wrapped at the neck with a ribbon. I'm sweet, I know, it was Christmas. As I proceeded to walk out the door, I apparently did not notice the jar full of Ping Pong balls. In my ignorance, I brushed by them, knocking EVERY SINGLE BALL into the floor. It was really cool to see all those balls bouncing across the counter and down the aisles, almost like some sort of bastardized Christmas Miracle. The checkout girl came running from behind the counter and started chasing after them and picking them up. Then the line queuing up for their purchases got involved, and of course, so did I. It was like TEAMWORK! Strangers were running all over the place, just trying to get their hands on my balls. They were handling my balls with great care, almost caressing them, and placing them back where they belonged. In the end, my balls were back in place. Of course, being the asshole that I am known to be, said to the girl, "I guess you earned that $5.00".