The Princess and the Prawn

Luck Would Have It

True love, it's not something that can be forced.

You know what can be forced though, a diaphragm. When someone performs the Heimlich maneuver to remove a cuisine crustacean from the lungs of a red-faced maiden.

Romantic, am I right?

Well, luck would have it that the person attached to the slender arms that held me belonged to someone who was also not a master at romance. Because after the blockage was removed I found myself face down on the floor. As for what she said when she dropped me unceremoniously onto the immaculate carpet, I could not for the life of me tell you. I was busy coughing out of the throat that had just been cleared of a giant shrimp. I had no idea where said oxygen obstruction had flown off to. I could only assume that my string of bad luck had it landing in the beverage of someone important. Hopefully, they could forgive me since I very well could have perished due to my poor eating habits. It must have been luck that led me to fall, choking, into the arms of someone who could administer the Heimlich.

Now whether that luck was good or bad, was still to be seen.

What I could see currently, as I lifted myself from the soft carpet, was clothed long legs perched atop a pair of wicked heels. How long were these legs? I could only guess that they travelled for miles because through the tears in my eyes the person attached on top was blurry.

"You really should not eat so fast."

Female, and young, my age perhaps. Of course, I had known people to sound as such and not be. Whether I was referring to age or the former, I supposed I'd leave up to interpretation, "Here." A hand reached down to me, as I blinked away the tears of near death. The hand gesture was an invitation, but the way in which the single word was said, a statement. As though it was a requirement to take the offered assistance. 

I did consider a different course of action, I promise I truly did consider it. Her hand had a soft look about it, a feat that would make someone assume it had never seen hard labor. It was quite tempting to touch, but alas my pride stopped me from accepting the stranger's forceful chivalry. I placed a hand down, brought a foot forward and proceeded to stand, as gracefully as a person can after such an incident. I misjudged the attention this incident had gained from my place upon the floor. A crowd had amassed. Nothing more entertaining than a woman choking at a business banquet, right? Unfortunately for me, and indirectly a group to the right, my flats became lost in the hem of my dress. My feet, which were inside of the black shoes, became tangled as well. You could imagine what happened next. 

I fell, of course. Right into the woman with the insanely long legs. In defence of her next actions, I did let out a squeak that turned into a long squeal. Someone must have handed her a drink after she released me earlier because as I toppled forward I got a glimpse of red liquid splashing against the finely dressed men I had mentioned earlier.  What I saw was the woman toss her beverage filled drink to the right, followed by slender arms wrapping around my shoulders and waist. There went my pride, straight into the hands I had stuck my nose up at in the first place. 

Luck would have it that she caught me, albeit she did take a step backwards. Which was less than I had done. Only halfway through the banquet and already I had managed to prove that I was a walking plague of misfortune. Misfortune for the woman's lost drink, misfortune for the men who were covered in her drink, and misfortune for myself. 

Lest I remind you of the prawn. 

Of course, it did not end there. My new boss was watching this whole episode of disaster. I had warned him about how misery loved to follow me, but he had assured me that I was a perfect fit for this company. It only took one banquet to show him otherwise. Not even a new record on my part.