On Wednesdays, a group of girls from my dance company go to Wendy’s after rehearsal (we call it Wendy Wednesdays). It is a time to unwind, get some homework done, and justify buying extremely greasy food off of the value menu (because less money means less calories right?). So yesterday we were sitting there, chatting away, being girly gals, when one of my friends looks down and sees my pink pepper spray that is key-chained onto my wallet. “Have you ever had to use it?” She asked. “Well, not really.” I replied. And with a look of confusion she asked how one can “not really” use pepper spray. You reply “not really” to the question, do you like nachos? Or “is it raining right now?” When it comes to pepper spray, you either shoot burning liquid into someone’s eyes or you don’t. It isn’t a “not really” type of issue.

Oh, but it is. At least in my case it is. You see friends, one can “not really” use her pepper spray if she accidentally uses it on herself. One can also “not really” use her 53 million volt stun gun if she unintentionally stun guns her own thumb. I can actually say that I have done both. Am I proud of it? Not really…

So the stun gun story is more understandable than the pepper spray story, so I will tell that one first so that I can easily and cautiously expose you to my stupidity.

It was one of the first weekends of school. I was freshly moved in, wide eyed, and ready to achieve a perfect 4.0 GPA (BAHA). My roommate invited her friend over so that he could see our new room and meet me (looking back he probably thought I was insane). Somehow we got on the topic of being nervous walking around such a big campus everyday. That’s when I proceeded to talk about the stun gun that my boyfriend bought me as a graduation gift. Ok– let me get one thing straight. This stun gun is legit. Too legit to quit in fact. The video advertisements depict large men giving the ground a good ole’ smooch after coming in contact with its power. So when I pulled it out of my drawer, I sort of felt like Rafiki when he lifts Simba up at the beginning of “The Lion King.” (see pic below)

After fully realizing the magnitude of power in my hands, my roommate’s friend asked me how it works. And instead of explaining it to him like an intelligent little freshman, I decided that I would just show him (of course)! So I geared up, flipped the “on” switch with as much swagger as I could, and pushed the button that releases the electricity. I soon realized, however, that my thumb was on the metal part from which the electricity is released.

Ouch.

I then proceeded to whimper and pay my respects to my right thumb which felt like someone had taken a hammer to. After the initial shock subsided, I had to walk around with my PackIt lunchbox over my hand for a solid 3 hours (because it wasn’t embarrassing enough that I simply brought a lunchbox to college).

The second time I used a self defense weapon against myself was in the CVS pharmacy. This was also one of the first weekends of school and my friends and I went to get groceries, toiletries, etc. for the dorm. I felt super adult-like with my little CVS basket and my list of things to purchase. Oh also, we were at a CVS plaza (very posh) which is basically a 2 story CVS. I needed to go to the bottom floor to get something, so I got on the elevator (laziness is what caused this all apparently). Whilst riding the elevator, I looked down at my wallet and noticed my pink pepper spray. I thought to myself, I wonder what this looks like when it sprays. You see friends, I thought pepper spray would come out like hairspray and diffuse a nice peppery mixture into the atmosphere. Well, I was obviously wrong. As I pushed down the button, pepper spray shot out like a jet and created a giant, orange mess all over the elevator wall.

Great.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, my eyes began to experience an intense burning sensation, and I started to cough like a chainsmoker on her 6th pack of the day. It was not a pleasant experience. When the elevator doors opened, I felt as if I was taking my first steps through Heaven’s Gates. However, that feeling ended when I had to tell the register worker that there was pepper spray all over the elevator wall–ruining the image of the oh so classy CVS Plaza.

So there it is folks. The two stories which sum up the most irrational moments of my life. If someone wants to make a self defense product that will help me defend myself from my own stupidity, that would be great.

xoxo

-Emma