Oh, Grate...

In many language derivations of my name, Mary Anna translates literally to "bitter grace." I translate literally to "bitter grace."

Last night, I went to the wedding of a close childhood friend, Brittany Powers. The wedding was held in the Wightman Chapel of Scarritt-Bennett, a beautiful gothic structure in the heart of Hillsboro. It was exceptionally cold last night, but I dressed myself in style and slipped into my new pair of Steve Madden chocolate brown, tweed fabric heels. These shoes are simply beautiful, and I felt so sassy when prancing up to the chapel in their four-inch spike heels.

The wedding ceremony passes, and the crowd begins to file-out for the reception. In the chapel, there are three aisles---one main center aisle and two along the outer edge of the pews. Sprinkled every few feet along the outside aisles are 2x2 foot metal grates, with small square holes punched through. Dad and I exit on the outside aisle, followed by Mom, struggling to get her coat on. I'm busy looking back and laughing at her for not being able to find the armhole, and I walk forward, directly on top of the first grate. I pause for a moment, trying to help Mom with her coat, and when I try to move forward, I realize I'm stuck.

Both of my heels are wedged about three inches down into the grate. I try to lift up my feet, but neither will budge. I'm pulling and yanking and by this time, Mom's caught up to me and is pushing forward telling me to "go!" Behind Mom is a line of guests also wondering why there's a hold-up. I look back at Mom, glued into my shoes, with a horrified look on my face. I panic and say, "I can't move!" At this point, she realizes that I'm sunk and she starts laughing hysterically. I tell her later that it's a good thing that I wasn't being sucked away by an escalator or an emptying drain, because I would've been long gone by now.

Finally, I get my bearings about me and slip out of my shoes. Now standing barefoot on the floor of this formal chapel, I bend over to get my shoes and realize they're stuck fast. Pretty soon, I'm down on my hands and knees, wiggling my heels out of this dang grate. Remember--there are approximately 40 or so folks behind me, waiting in line to exit. I'm that girl, the one that's holding them up.

Mortified. My face is purple and I'm completely humiliated. I haven't been this embarrassed since the time I was knocked face-first out of my chair by my co-worker in a training meeting at Adtec. Trying to regain my composure, I move forward, and glance up at the mezzanine. I see my friend Parker standing at the top of the chapel, filming the exiting crowd. We make eye contact and he waves. Did he get this fiasco on camera???