So I'm out to lunch the other day at a Thai restaurant and I'm eating one of those creamy, red coconut curries when a piece of baby corn falls from my fork and tumbles down the front of my shirt, leaving greasy, red, wet marks on its way to the floor. I just HAPPENED to be wearing my favorite white, linen shirt to lunch so I could impress the woman with whom I was on a first date. My first response to myself was, "fuck, why didn't I stab that baby corn instead of trying to shovel it into my mouth?"

Since I was on a first date and didn't want to make a bad impression, I just said, "I didn't really like this shirt anyway," which was the farthest thing from the truth. So now I'm faced with a quandary. Do I just dab and wipe at the red splotches on my shirt with a dry napkin, do I dunk my napkin in my glass and dab at it or do I go to the bathroom to try to sort myself out? I chose to go to the bathroom.

When I came out of the bathroom, I had three round wet splotches on my shirt, each the size of a golf ball, and my shirt was sticking to my chest in those three spots. Not only that, but there was still a dull orange hue from the red curry that formed a ring around each wet spot because the little granules of curry had embedded themselves deep into the pores of the fabric. I felt like a complete jackass.

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You were disempowered in a multitude of ways on this, my friend. First, you would like to think that you would have the whole "eating" thing figured out by now. I mean how many thousands of meals have you eaten in your life thus far? You would think that you would be a good judge of what food can be shoveled and what needs stabbing with a fork by this point in your life, right?

Second, your favorite linen shirt is probably a goner. The combination of oily coconut milk and red curry will probably render that shirt useless except as a rag. We all need a shirt that hangs just right, accentuates our curves and complexion and gives us that extra wind in our sails. To see that favorite garment soiled and stained is the epitome of feeling disempowered. And the very thought of scrubbing that linen shirt or paying to have it professionally cleaned is even more disempowering because you know that further attempts will be futile.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, your experience of disempowerment happened in relationship, on a first date for crying out loud! Doing something stupid when no one is watching is embarrassing, but having a witness to our inevitable foibles makes us feel like dirt. Not only did you not make the good impression you were hoping to make, but you also looked like a doofus instead. We all want to look good in front of other people, especially when we want to get in the other person's pants. God owes us that much, right?