The sun blazed down, and I felt the first drop of sweat roll down my cheek staining my shield of make-up. I knew as soon as I stepped off plane, the Los Angles humidity and I weren't going to get along as well as I'd hoped. I patted my face with urgency, doing my best to work with what I had, before reaching the terminal building where my suitcase held the keys to my perfection. As I walked past the plane I had just given the best side of 12 hours of my life to, I sighed in relief, mainly out of exhaustion but secretly I knew, this is where it should all begin, at least I hope...
Reaching the building my fingers fumbled in my over sized Marc Jacobs bag searching for my passport in the jungle of lipsticks and magazines, when instead of walking upon the tired grey carpet I was hurtling head first into the recycling bin metres away and I knew I couldn't stop. It was inevitable. I was going to land like a giant sack of potatoes with my sophisticated façade lost with just minutes of entering my dream world.
It all felt like slow motion, I cringed inwardly as my arms hung lifelessly at my sides. Why weren’t they moving? Why were they just letting life repeat itself and letting me land flat on my face? In that instant I was angry with myself why did I always run head on into embarrassment? I began to mentally prepare myself when I felt a firm hand wrap around my waist, yanking me back to reality.
As my feet steadied in their black louboutin pumps, my brain worked in double speed trying to process what happened. Whose hands were wrapped around my waist? Had I just been saved? Focus, Focus, Focus I screamed silently as I turned around with an embarrassed smile playing on my lips.