Freshmen at Large - Cristine Mayer pt. 4

In my few short weeks at Texas A&M, I’ve already learned a plethora of things. From the Fightin’ Texas Aggie yells to learning that you should never buy a shirt unless it’s at a tent sale, the lessons seem to be endless. But one of the most valuable and most painful lessons I have learned has been this: never underestimate the power of the A&M pavement to make you look ridiculous in front of your classmates. You see, I’ve calculated it and thought about it endlessly, and I’ve realized that I’ve tripped, nearly tripped or face-planted almost every school day this year.
Usually it’s just a casual stub of the toe, an easy recovery. A nonchalant shrug-off and all is well. But alas, on Wednesday, Sept. 6, it was my turn. En route on my usual path to history class, it suddenly occurred to me that we were not meeting in the history building that day, but Evans Library.
Now, let me just say that I am one of “those kids” who is always about 20 minutes early to class and sits front row center. So imagine “that kid” running late. Being frazzled and vividly fearing the unimaginable scenario that I may be late, I seemed to lose concentration on the more important things around me: i.e. walking. And that’s when it happened. All of a sudden I looked down, and there was the pavement having a lovely little conversation with my face. Now, these kinds of falls are hard to recover from. You can either
A) laugh and hope the other people laugh or
B) cry and hope someone comes to help you in your pitiful state.
I chose A. Let’s just say things didn’t go too well. But alas, all is well, and I’ve only got two skinned knees. Moral of the story: let’s just say, I never take my eyes off the pavement.