This morning, while on my way to work, I was stopped at a light. While waiting for the light to change, I looked down and noticed a stray hair on my pants. Now, I don't think I'm unlike pretty much every other female in the world when it comes to finding stray hairs. I believe there to be a general consensus that hairs that are found anywhere other than attached to the head must be apprehended and disposed of immediately. In my situation (sitting in my car), the acceptable mode of disposal means out the window (or moonroof, as I've been known to use when convenient).
So, as I've done a million times before, I plucked the errant hair off my pants and powered down my window. Then I closed the window. On my hand. My hand that was still sticking out of the window. Panicked, I immediately pressed the button to put the window back down. Nothing. However, the window on the passenger side promptly went down. Finding the correct button, I pressed it again, albeit in the wrong direction, and the window increased its chokehold on my trapped wrist. The pain! Finally (third time's a charm!), I pressed the RIGHT button in the RIGHT direction and my hand was loosed. Free at last!
Mortified beyond words and sure that all the drivers in my immediate area had thoroughly enjoyed my little free (read: FREAK) show, I sped away from the light and drove as fast as I could to the safety of my office.
In case you're wondering, I'm OK. Just suffering from a little case of bruised ego. And wrist.