I had a pratfall-filled day today.
I was working in the control room, which usually leads to lots of standing around and fewer opportunites to fall on my face. Yet today, thrice did I make a pratfalling ass of myself.
First, I was standing on a small flight of stairs. Someone reached to get something off the wall behind me, and as I was stepping down the stairs, I tripped over my own jeans.
It was brief, just a small stumble, and I quickly shoved my hands back in my pockets to try and make it appear nothing was amiss.
Of course, I did this in front of a professional pratfaller (he’ll remain nameless, but if you watch the show, you’ll know which of my coworkers I’m referring to), and he cracked up laughing.
So I was like, well, there’s my dumbass incident for the day. Oh no. That was just the beginning.
My coworker-to-remain-nameless and I were getting lunch for a bunch of people, and as I walked up the exactly two stairs to the commissary (aka cafeteria), I tripped and fell flat on my face.
So I thought, OK, I just need to avoid stairs, and I’ll be fine. And the universe laughed.
It managed to hold itself off for a good couple of hours, as the next incident did not occur until right after we had finished taping.
The head writer walked out the door, and someone asked me to get her so she could talk to one of the producers. So I ran out the door after her.
Except somehow, my sweater got caught on the handle of the door (it’s one of those push-down handles, not like a doorknob or anything).
I didn’t realize it was caught until I went about two steps down the hall, and my sweater arm stopped stretching and was forcibly removed from my body…my arm was just hanging out, then the neck of my sweater caught me and pulled me back.
I know this description doesn’t even come close to justifying how ridiculous this looked.
After that happened I was like…I’m just going to stand stock still for the rest of the night and hope nothing falls on me.