The Jamba

*sigh*

Here is how retarded I am. I went to Curves Friday night and on the way home, I decided that I wanted Jamba Juice for dinner. Mmmmm... Strawberry Nirvana.

I pull into the lot, park and start walking up to the store.

Damn you, Friday night! As I get closer, I see that not only is it packed, but the place is filled with Beautiful People. You know, Friday-night people. We're-hittin'-the-club people. I'm-dressed-to-impress people. People who smell good.

Me? I'm standing there in my work out shorts and post office t-shirt, hair pulled back, tennis shoes and I am sure that my legs need lotion.

So, here's my thought process:

I could just go in, ignore the Beautiful People and get my smoothie...

-then-

I bet I could change back into my jeans by laying down in the back of my CRV....

-then-

Maybe I'll just stand outside for a few minutes and check out what's going on, play on my phone like I am texting my friend who isn't there yet...

-then-

Crap. Here comes another hot chick. Damnit!

-then-

Ok, let me just act like my friend isn't coming, so gee, I better leave....

-then-

Stroll to the car, jump in and leave.

Yes, I'm a loser. Capital L. I didn't get my smoothie because of the intimidation factor. Isn't that the LAMEST thing ever? And, if anything, I am the one who should be in a Jamba Juice - you know, healthy smoothie for the gal who just worked out??

So I drove off, feeling just a little depressed at my behavior, and instead went to Baja Fresh, where the people inside were just regular people and got a great, big, giant Dos Manos Barrito.