The Sunglasses Fumble
I was 24 years old, fresh out of college, and feeling like I owned the world. I had just landed my first job, a fancy-sounding title at a mid-sized company that made me feel like I was finally “somebody.” The job came with a nice salary, a corner cubicle, and an inflated sense of importance that made me feel like I could do no wrong.
One Friday afternoon, after a particularly successful meeting where I managed to impress the higher-ups with my stellar presentation (read: I remembered to add a couple of memes), I decided it was time to reward myself. So, I did what any 24-year-old with newfound disposable income might do—I went out and bought a ridiculously expensive pair of designer sunglasses. I wasn’t even sure if they looked good on me, but they had a brand name that screamed, “I’ve made it!”
That weekend, I wore those sunglasses everywhere. I wore them indoors, at night, in the shower—I was practically married to them. I even wore them to my cousin’s outdoor barbecue, where I made sure everyone knew exactly how much they cost. I might have even suggested that they were a “necessary investment” for someone of my “professional standing.”
But then, karma—or maybe just my own stupidity—struck. I was at the barbecue, proudly strutting around in my overpriced shades, when I decided to play a little backyard football with my cousins. Now, I should mention that I’m not exactly the most athletic guy around, but I figured, “How hard could it be?” The answer: very hard.
In the heat of the game, I made a daring move, sprinting for the ball like I was Odell Beckham Jr. As I reached out to catch it, I tripped over a rogue sprinkler head. Down I went, face-first, into a mud puddle. The sunglasses flew off my face in what felt like slow motion and landed directly under my cousin’s foot as he tried to avoid crashing into me. Crunch.
There was silence. I sat up, covered in mud, my designer sunglasses shattered into a thousand tiny, overpriced pieces. My cousin looked at me, trying to suppress his laughter, but failing miserably. The entire barbecue erupted in laughter, and I knew, at that moment, I was never going to live this down.
The consequences? Well, besides the fact that I was out a couple hundred bucks, I had to endure weeks—no, months—of jokes about how I had “fumbled” my first big purchase. My family even started calling me “Hollywood” as a nickname, which they still do, by the way.
But what did I learn? I learned that being a little too full of myself could lead to some pretty hilarious—and humbling—moments. And maybe, just maybe, that it’s better to spend money on experiences rather than things that can be easily crushed underfoot. Also, I learned to avoid playing sports in sunglasses.
