A.I. G-Rated Team Building 2

[RonR]

As Mary slogged off toward the main house, her custom Nikes ruined beyond salvation, Lauren breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the weight of her final act lift off her shoulders. She straightened her posture with quiet satisfaction, casting a quick glance at herself. Her cute blue-and-white sweater was still perfect, the white skirt crisp and untouched, and her box-fresh white canvas Sperry’s gleamed as bright as when she had first slipped them on that morning. She had made it. Against all odds, she had survived a day of team-building nonsense without so much as a smudge on her.

Lauren was preparing to leave and head back to the house when an idea occurred to her—a fitting end to the day. As she turned to survey the mud pool, she thought of how great it would be to get a final, dramatic shot. And why not? She’d been curating moments all day. With renewed confidence, she took purposeful steps toward the edge of the mud pool.

Glancing down, she noticed where the edges of the pool met the untouched grass. The contrast between the dark, thick mud and her immaculate Sperry sneakers was striking. The crisp white canvas of her shoes practically glowed in the afternoon sunlight, unmarred by a single drop. The fine blue stripe along the foxing added class to the look, the epitome of her personal fashionable rebellion against this entire ordeal.

A small, almost triumphant smile flickered on her lips as she delicately stepped onto the corner of the mud pool, positioning her left foot on one side and her right foot on the other. The moment felt poised, calculated—the kind of 'perfect shot' worthy of an eventful close to the day. She raised her phone, angling it just right for that dramatic bird's-eye view. Click. A few more snaps, and she’d be done.

Then, amidst this perfect moment, Lauren couldn’t resist a tiny indulgence. She wiggled her toes in happiness, feeling the solid ground beneath her clean shoes. I've won, she thought. No team-building absurdities, no ruined clothes, no forced camaraderie.

But then she leaned forward—just a little more to capture that final shot, that perfect angle. The one that would wrap this day up neatly, just as she’d planned.

That’s when everything changed.

The feeling of careful control began to fade, turning faint and slippery. Lauren felt her right foot wobble precariously as the grass beneath her betrayed her balance. A flicker of confusion flashed in her eyes as she tried to adjust—leaning slightly back, correcting herself. But it was too late. Her arms instinctively flailed out, trying to compensate, but in the process, her left foot slipped as well, tilting her forward.

Her face changed in an instant—from confident composure to startled disbelief as her world literally tipped forward.

"Oh no... no, no, NO!" she gasped, her voice rising in panic as she realized she was losing her balance. The mud pool loomed below her, menacing and unavoidable. A flash of horror rippled across her face as gravity betrayed her entirely.

And then—SPLAT!

Lauren hit the mud face-first, sending thick brown globs splashing up around her. The cold, sticky muck shifted beneath her as she struggled to comprehend what had just happened. For what felt like an eternity, her mind failed to catch up to the reality—she, Lauren, who had masterminded her way out of any indignity today, was now sitting in a pool of mud, her perfect outfit submerged in the very thing she had feared most.

After a deafening silence, she slowly sat up, sputtering, her chest heaving in disbelief. Her hands were caked in mud, her sweater now drenched in dark brown sludge. The once-pristine white skirt clung to her legs, now indistinguishable from the ground she sat upon. Her hair—God, even her hair—was streaked and matted with the slippery mixture of dirt and water. The sunlight that had made her shoes gleam earlier now illuminated the flecks of mud covering her knees, her arms, her face.

Lauren blinked, still in shock, as she wiped at her face only to smear more mud across her features. “Ugh... oh my god...” she whimpered in frustration, her voice breathless and lost. She looked down at herself once more, horrified. Her entire ensemble—once the crown jewel of carefully curated nonchalance—had been obliterated.

And then her eyes fell to her shoes.

The once-glowing canvas Sperry sneakers, so impeccably clean—stood no chance. They were drenched in wet, soupy mud. The white canvas now soaked with dark brown stains that penetrated through to the inner lining. The fine blue stripe, which had added such an air of sophistication, was now little more than a faint, sullied reminder of what had been. The mud had settled in the crevices, the soles, swallowing her shoes whole.

Lauren let out a strangled croak of despair. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Carefully and with as much dignity as one could muster while sitting waist-deep in a mud pool, she struggled to her feet, every movement making the mud squelch and drip off her clothes in comical clumps. There would be no salvaging this—her sweater was ruined, her skirt drenched, and her sneakers... beyond repair. As she stepped out of the mud pool, mud sloshing around her ankles, she fought to maintain some semblance of composure.

With each slow, deliberate step, she could feel the mud squelching inside her sneakers, cold and discomforting. She dared not look at her reflection in her phone’s screen; she already knew what she’d see there—defeat.

Despite her best efforts to restore some grace to her movements, her progress was slow and awkward, the weight of her mud-soaked clothes dragging her down. As she approached the rest of the group, most of whom were now sipping iced drinks by the refreshment table, Lauren felt their eyes turning toward her.

Conversation quieted, a few hushed snickers snuck past giggles, and slowly, the amusement spread. It was impossible for them not to notice—the woman who had spent the better part of the day avoiding all physical contact with anything remotely messy, the woman who had brushed off their participation and skated by with immaculate clothes, was now trudging back, coated head to toe in mud like a fallen queen.

One of the women from accounting barely suppressed a laugh, her hand held to her mouth as she elbowed a colleague. “Well, she finally participated.”

Lauren, despite the mortification coursing through her, lifted her chin ever so slightly. She was sore, humiliated, and furious with herself, but she still had a sliver of pride to hold onto. If she had to leave this disaster, she would leave it with what little dignity she could salvage. Her shoes squelched as she took another step, mud dripping from her skirt in slow, mocking streams.

Back to the car, she thought. Just make it to the car, Lauren.

Drawing in a breath, she continued to walk, the laughter behind her fading as she distanced herself from the group, her once-perfect ensemble now reduced to a soggy, muddy mess.

As she reached her car, she caught her reflection in the window—a sorry state indeed. Her once elegant image, shattered by a single moment of overconfidence. With a sigh, she opened the door, carefully peeling the mud-caked sneakers off her feet before sitting down and slamming the door shut.

This day? Over.

And tomorrow, she’d have to buy a new pair of white sneakers.

Describe Lauren calling Stephanie on the way home detailing her day from her arrival at the house to getting the photography assignment to nudging her coworker into the mud and her ultimate humiliation in the mud pool. Have Stephanie interject and ask questions along the way.

 

[FeedBot]

Describe Lauren calling Stephanie on the way home detailing her day from her arrival at the house to getting the photography assignment to nudging her coworker into the mud and her ultimate humiliation in the mud pool. Have Stephanie interject and ask questions along the way.

As Lauren drove down the quiet country road, the mud still uncomfortably sticking to her legs and clinging to her clothes, she swore under her breath. Her once pristine white Sperry sneakers sat in a ruined heap beside her on the passenger seat, still caked in mud. She had already peeled off her sweater, which hadn’t fared much better. Her hair stuck unpleasantly to the side of her face, still wet with splotches of mud she’d tried wiping off with what little dignity remained.

Unbelievable, she thought, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. She needed to unload this disaster on someone, and there was only one person who would understand. With a few quick taps, she punched Stephanie’s number into her car’s Bluetooth system.

The digital ringing filled the otherwise silent car, and soon enough, Stephanie’s voice chirped through the speakerphone.

“Hey, Lauren! You survived somehow?” Stephanie teased, knowing just how much Lauren had dreaded the team-building exercise.

Lauren let out a deep, frustration-laden sigh. “Steph… you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had,” she began, the exhaustion creeping into her voice. She glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of the disheveled mud still streaked across her cheek. She grimaced.

“What happened? Tell me everything!” Stephanie’s interest was piqued immediately.

Lauren took a deep, dramatic breath, “Well, it started bad enough with my arrival at Greg’s country house. It's way out there, by the way—middle of nowhere. I swear, you hit the countryside, and cell service is, like, zero.”

“Gross,” Stephanie replied empathetically. “Did everyone else look as out of place as you thought they would?”

“Oh, Steph, I was by far the nicest dressed, obviously,” she said with a smug undertone. Lauren recounted how almost everyone was decked out in some sort of sporty attire, cheaply made leggings and worn-out sneakers—practical, sure, but it lacked any sense of elegance. “And yes, most of them were in their little activewear. Except, of course, Mary, that brown-nosing junior exec. She showed up in some wannabe-athlete golf outfit with Nikes that she wouldn’t stop bragging about.”

“Ooh, I can already see it,” Stephanie interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, what exactly did you wear? I need to picture this.”

“Oh, you know,” Lauren began, pretending to be modest but knowing full well she’d dressed perfectly, “I kept things casual. I wore that blue-and-white sweater I love, my white skirt, and my new white Sperry canvas sneakers — the ones fresh out of the box. It was tasteful and appropriate, considering the circumstances.”

Stephanie let out an amused laugh. “Casual? Right. Were you auditioning for a yacht club? And fresh white Sperry’s? At a team-building event? Oh, Lauren, this is too good already.”

“I know, I fully expected to sit back and look fabulous while showing these people what ‘casual’ really means, but of course, Greg had to come over and ruin everything by making me official photographer.”

“Oh my God,” Stephanie interrupted, laughing harder now. “They gave you a job? I bet you jumped at the chance just so you wouldn’t have to actually participate.”

“Exactly!” Lauren exclaimed, triumphant in her recollection. “I acted like I was doing them a favor, but secretly, I was thrilled. No way I was about to go running around in the dirt like the rest of them.”

“Oh, you must have been so smug,” Stephanie teased.

“Steph, it was perfect... at first. I wandered around snapping pictures, dodging every single ridiculous activity. I didn’t even have to touch those awful ropes drills or that absurd relay with cups of water! I just smiled at everyone and waved my phone when they asked if I was going to join in.”

“I can’t believe you got away with it,” Stephanie said. “So, how did it all go so wrong?”

Lauren sighed heavily. “Well, it was all going fine, glorious even, until I bumped into—guess who—Mary.”

“Oh no, what did she say?” Stephanie asked, sensing the tension rising in Lauren’s voice.

“She made some snotty comment about how I wasn't ‘really participating’ and how it must be ‘nice to just observe.’” Lauren practically hissed, recalling the way Mary’s voice dripped with annoyance. “Like I cared what she thought,” Lauren said bitterly. “But then the best part—you’re going to love this—I saw her about to take her turn at the mud pool swing. And just as she reached for the rope... I nudged her.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line before Stephanie burst out laughing. “No! Lauren! You nudged her?!”

“Oh yes,” Lauren confirmed, the corners of her lips curling in satisfaction as she replayed the moment. “Just a tiny nudge—nothing big, just enough to make her lose her balance, and she slipped right in.”

“Did she fall in the mud?” Stephanie gasped between laughs.

“She fell in alright! But, of course, she somehow managed to land on her feet—so she only got mud on her stupid custom-made Nike's. Ruined them completely.” Lauren let out a smug chuckle. “You should have seen the look on her face, Steph. It was perfect. And she had the nerve to blame me!”

“Well, did you at least get a picture of her?” Stephanie teased wickedly.

“Oh, I was way ahead of you," Lauren bragged, “but then... it happened.”

Stephanie’s laughter paused at the sudden change in Lauren’s tone. “Wait, what happened?”

Lauren’s voice dropped lower, the edge of humiliation creeping into it. “I was taking photos of the mud pool right after the Mary incident, feeling great, minding my own business. I wanted a dramatic shot of the pool... to cap off the day, right?”

“Right...” Stephanie replied cautiously.

“So, I stood over the pool, you know, one foot on either side, balancing, feeling so confident. I was even admiring how great my white shoes looked against the contrast of the mud. Feeling so smug. And then…” She hesitated, finding it painful to recount the downfall.

“And then what?” Stephanie prompted eagerly.

Lauren groaned, leaning into the steering wheel as if reliving the defeat. “I leaned forward just a little too far. I felt myself start to wobble... and before I could do anything—I fell in. Face first. In the mud. Completely covered.”

For a moment, the line went silent until Stephanie exploded with laughter, gasping for breath between fits. “Oh my god! No way! You actually fell in the mud?! After all that?!”

Lauren winced but couldn’t help letting out a humorless chuckle. “Yes, Steph. Completely. My brand-new sneakers? Ruined. My white skirt? Covered. My hair... Ugh, it looked like I just crawled out of a swamp. And of course, people saw—they saw everything.”

“Oh, Lauren, this is too good!” Stephanie was losing it at this point, laughing so hard she could barely speak. “The woman who didn't want to participate ends up face-down in the mud at the end of it all.”

“I know, I know,” Lauren muttered, exasperated but finally seeing the ridiculousness of it all. “And the worst part? I still had to slog back to the house! Everyone standing around, sipping their drinks... looking at me and laughing.”

“Oh my god,” Steph snorted, her voice breathy from laughter. “Was Mary still there? Did she see it?”

“I think she already made her escape. Thank god for that small mercy,” Lauren muttered, her pride still smarting.

“Well, on the bright side,” Stephanie said, trying to rein in her laughter, “at least now you know what it's like to participate. Maybe next time you’ll wear... I don’t know, something a little less tied to dry-cleaning?”

Lauren groaned, rolling her eyes. “Next time? Ha. No way. Not after this. Next time, I’m taking a sick day. I’m done with team-building nonsense.”

Stephanie caught her breath, her amusement still palpable but softening. “Well, honestly, my friend, it sounds like you had a terrible day, but damn, that story just made my week.”

Lauren sighed, shaking her head slightly. “I’m glad someone’s enjoying it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to clean off what’s left of my dignity and probably buy new shoes.”

“Make sure to send me pics when your new shoes arrive!” Stephanie quipped.

“I’ll send you a before and after,” Lauren deadpanned. "We'll call it, 'triumph to tragedy.'"

And with that, she clicked off the call, shifting in her seat and glaring at her filthy sneakers. Next time, she thought bitterly. No more team-building.

 

[RonR]

As Lauren drove down the quiet country road, the mud still uncomfortably sticking to her legs and clinging to her clothes, she swore under her breath. Her once pristine white Sperry sneakers sat in a ruined heap beside her on the passenger seat, still caked in mud. She had already peeled off her sweater, which hadn’t fared much better. Her hair stuck unpleasantly to the side of her face, still wet with splotches of mud she’d tried wiping off with what little dignity remained.

Unbelievable, she thought, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. She needed to unload this disaster on someone, and there was only one person who would understand. With a few quick taps, she punched Stephanie’s number into her car’s Bluetooth system.

The digital ringing filled the otherwise silent car, and soon enough, Stephanie’s voice chirped through the speakerphone.

“Hey, Lauren! You survived somehow?” Stephanie teased, knowing just how much Lauren had dreaded the team-building exercise.

Lauren let out a deep, frustration-laden sigh. “Steph… you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had,” she began, the exhaustion creeping into her voice. She glanced in the rearview mirror, catching sight of the disheveled mud still streaked across her cheek. She grimaced.

“What happened? Tell me everything!” Stephanie’s interest was piqued immediately.

Lauren took a deep, dramatic breath, “Well, it started bad enough with my arrival at Greg’s country house. It's way out there, by the way—middle of nowhere. I swear, you hit the countryside, and cell service is, like, zero.”

“Gross,” Stephanie replied empathetically. “Did everyone else look as out of place as you thought they would?”

“Oh, Steph, I was by far the nicest dressed, obviously,” she said with a smug undertone. Lauren recounted how almost everyone was decked out in some sort of sporty attire, cheaply made leggings and worn-out sneakers—practical, sure, but it lacked any sense of elegance. “And yes, most of them were in their little activewear. Except, of course, Mary, that brown-nosing junior exec. She showed up in some wannabe-athlete golf outfit with Nikes that she wouldn’t stop bragging about.”

“Ooh, I can already see it,” Stephanie interjected, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “So, what exactly did you wear? I need to picture this.”

“Oh, you know,” Lauren began, pretending to be modest but knowing full well she’d dressed perfectly, “I kept things casual. I wore that blue-and-white sweater I love, my white skirt, and my new white Sperry canvas sneakers — the ones fresh out of the box. It was tasteful and appropriate, considering the circumstances.”

Stephanie let out an amused laugh. “Casual? Right. Were you auditioning for a yacht club? And fresh white Sperry’s? At a team-building event? Oh, Lauren, this is too good already.”

“I know, I fully expected to sit back and look fabulous while showing these people what ‘casual’ really means, but of course, Greg had to come over and ruin everything by making me official photographer.”

“Oh my God,” Stephanie interrupted, laughing harder now. “They gave you a job? I bet you jumped at the chance just so you wouldn’t have to actually participate.”

“Exactly!” Lauren exclaimed, triumphant in her recollection. “I acted like I was doing them a favor, but secretly, I was thrilled. No way I was about to go running around in the dirt like the rest of them.”

“Oh, you must have been so smug,” Stephanie teased.

“Steph, it was perfect... at first. I wandered around snapping pictures, dodging every single ridiculous activity. I didn’t even have to touch those awful ropes drills or that absurd relay with cups of water! I just smiled at everyone and waved my phone when they asked if I was going to join in.”

“I can’t believe you got away with it,” Stephanie said. “So, how did it all go so wrong?”

Lauren sighed heavily. “Well, it was all going fine, glorious even, until I bumped into—guess who—Mary.”

“Oh no, what did she say?” Stephanie asked, sensing the tension rising in Lauren’s voice.

“She made some snotty comment about how I wasn't ‘really participating’ and how it must be ‘nice to just observe.’” Lauren practically hissed, recalling the way Mary’s voice dripped with annoyance. “Like I cared what she thought,” Lauren said bitterly. “But then the best part—you’re going to love this—I saw her about to take her turn at the mud pool swing. And just as she reached for the rope... I nudged her.”

There was a moment of stunned silence on the other end of the line before Stephanie burst out laughing. “No! Lauren! You nudged her?!”

“Oh yes,” Lauren confirmed, the corners of her lips curling in satisfaction as she replayed the moment. “Just a tiny nudge—nothing big, just enough to make her lose her balance, and she slipped right in.”

“Did she fall in the mud?” Stephanie gasped between laughs.

“She fell in alright! But, of course, she somehow managed to land on her feet—so she only got mud on her stupid custom-made Nike's. Ruined them completely.” Lauren let out a smug chuckle. “You should have seen the look on her face, Steph. It was perfect. And she had the nerve to blame me!”

“Well, did you at least get a picture of her?” Stephanie teased wickedly.

“Oh, I was way ahead of you," Lauren bragged, “but then... it happened.”

Stephanie’s laughter paused at the sudden change in Lauren’s tone. “Wait, what happened?”

Lauren’s voice dropped lower, the edge of humiliation creeping into it. “I was taking photos of the mud pool right after the Mary incident, feeling great, minding my own business. I wanted a dramatic shot of the pool... to cap off the day, right?”

“Right...” Stephanie replied cautiously.

“So, I stood over the pool, you know, one foot on either side, balancing, feeling so confident. I was even admiring how great my white shoes looked against the contrast of the mud. Feeling so smug. And then…” She hesitated, finding it painful to recount the downfall.

“And then what?” Stephanie prompted eagerly.

Lauren groaned, leaning into the steering wheel as if reliving the defeat. “I leaned forward just a little too far. I felt myself start to wobble... and before I could do anything—I fell in. Face first. In the mud. Completely covered.”

For a moment, the line went silent until Stephanie exploded with laughter, gasping for breath between fits. “Oh my god! No way! You actually fell in the mud?! After all that?!”

Lauren winced but couldn’t help letting out a humorless chuckle. “Yes, Steph. Completely. My brand-new sneakers? Ruined. My white skirt? Covered. My hair... Ugh, it looked like I just crawled out of a swamp. And of course, people saw—they saw everything.”

“Oh, Lauren, this is too good!” Stephanie was losing it at this point, laughing so hard she could barely speak. “The woman who didn't want to participate ends up face-down in the mud at the end of it all.”

“I know, I know,” Lauren muttered, exasperated but finally seeing the ridiculousness of it all. “And the worst part? I still had to slog back to the house! Everyone standing around, sipping their drinks... looking at me and laughing.”

“Oh my god,” Steph snorted, her voice breathy from laughter. “Was Mary still there? Did she see it?”

“I think she already made her escape. Thank god for that small mercy,” Lauren muttered, her pride still smarting.

“Well, on the bright side,” Stephanie said, trying to rein in her laughter, “at least now you know what it's like to participate. Maybe next time you’ll wear... I don’t know, something a little less tied to dry-cleaning?”

Lauren groaned, rolling her eyes. “Next time? Ha. No way. Not after this. Next time, I’m taking a sick day. I’m done with team-building nonsense.”

Stephanie caught her breath, her amusement still palpable but softening. “Well, honestly, my friend, it sounds like you had a terrible day, but damn, that story just made my week.”

Lauren sighed, shaking her head slightly. “I’m glad someone’s enjoying it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to clean off what’s left of my dignity and probably buy new shoes.”

“Make sure to send me pics when your new shoes arrive!” Stephanie quipped.

“I’ll send you a before and after,” Lauren deadpanned. "We'll call it, 'triumph to tragedy.'"

And with that, she clicked off the call, shifting in her seat and glaring at her filthy sneakers. Next time, she thought bitterly. No more team-building.

Lauren asked Stephanie, "You know me pretty well. Can you picture the way the afternoon unfolded, me tapping Mary, me leaning over the mud pit and then me falling in? Tell me what images you have in your mind?"

Be honest, would you have laughed at me? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed to get muddy.

 

[FeedBot]

Lauren asked Stephanie, "You know me pretty well. Can you picture the way the afternoon unfolded, me tapping Mary, me leaning over the mud pit and then me falling in? Tell me what images you have in your mind?"

Be honest, would you have laughed at me? Why? You know, I wasn't dressed to get muddy.

Lauren gripped the steering wheel a little tighter, her frustration still simmering beneath the surface as the day's events replayed in her mind. Yet, as the silence over the Bluetooth line hung for a moment longer, a flicker of curiosity caused her to ask the question that had been nagging her all along.

“You know me pretty well,” Lauren finally said, her tone a little quieter now, edged with a mix of exasperation and genuine curiosity. “Can you picture the way the afternoon unfolded? Me tapping Mary, me leaning over the mud pit, and then… me falling in? Tell me, what images do you have in your mind?”

A beat passed before Stephanie’s laughter bubbled up again on the other end of the call, though this time it felt less like mockery and more like that of a guilty best friend who knew Lauren a little too well.

“Oh Lauren, I can fully picture it,” Stephanie said with amusement, not holding back her honesty. “I mean, you sashaying into that event like you were walking into brunch? In your spotless designer outfit? I’m already dying. You probably had this confident little smirk all day because you thought you’d totally outsmarted everyone by getting out of the activities.”

Lauren smirked to herself—Stephanie wasn’t wrong.

“And then the moment with Mary,” Stephanie continued, her tone growing slyer now, “Oh, I can completely see you doing that little ‘oops’ nudge, acting like it was nothing when it was so deliberate. You might have even arched an eyebrow or given a little toss of your hair after, didn’t you?”

Lauren opened her mouth to protest, then closed it, realizing there was no point in denying it. “Maybe,” she grumbled softly. “She deserved it.”

“But let’s be honest here,” Stephanie continued, her voice now carrying barely concealed glee, “I am cackling at the thought of you leaning over the mud pit, admiring your reflection, tapping your Sperrys, thinking you’re so above it all—an actual queen looking down on the peasants and their muck. I mean, of course, you looked fabulous, you always do!”

“And then…” Stephanie broke down into full-on giggles, struggling to get the words out. “And then… it’s like a scene from a movie! You wobble, arms flailing, and just, whoosh–down you go!” She could hardly contain herself, and Lauren let out a good-humored, if exasperated, laugh of her own.

“I swear, it wasn’t even that graceful,” Lauren admitted, rubbing her forehead as she recalled the moment. “It was like in slow motion, Steph. One second, I’m perfectly fine, perfectly balanced—and the next, I’m face-down in mud. It was humiliating. I had just gotten through this whole day unscathed, and then that happens.”

“I would’ve died,” Stephanie said, still laughing but softening her tone. “I mean, yeah, it’s hilarious—which, sorry babe, it totally is—but knowing you? Oh, I can see why you’re so mad. You weren’t dressed to fall into mud at all.”

Stephanie paused, as if really thinking about it now, and her voice gained a more reflective quality. “Like, you went in there with a whole plan, and in the end, the universe was like, ‘Nope, sorry Lauren, you’re not getting off that easy.’”

Lauren sighed deeply, her frustration ebbing slightly as she drove. “Exactly. I mean, come on—my white sneakers, Steph. Fresh out of the box.”

“I know!” Stephanie replied, her voice light but kind now. “And honestly, if I had actually been there and saw it happen in real-time? Yes... I probably would have laughed. But not because of you,” she clarified quickly. “Just because it’s so you—so perfectly Lauren to dodge everything all day and then end up in the one place you were trying to avoid. But I would’ve helped you up after,” Stephanie added with a grin in her voice.

Lauren groaned. “It’s not even funny,” she muttered, though she couldn’t help letting out a sheepish laugh. “Okay, fine, it’s a little funny. But still! You know I wasn’t dressed to get muddy. This outfit was perfect when I left the house.”

“Oh, I know,” Stephanie replied knowingly. “You had this idea of gliding through the whole day untouched, just doing your jobs on the sidelines and watching everyone else make fools of themselves. And I bet you really didn’t think you’d end up as the final punchline!”

Lauren let out a loud, dramatic sigh. “I didn’t! I mean, why does this always happen? I am primed for grace and class, and the universe pulls me face-first into the dirt. Literally!”

Stephanie chuckled softly. “Because, Lauren, that’s life. It keeps you humble. Besides, you’ve got a great story to tell now, and we both know you’ll bounce back with new shoes and an even better outfit next time.”

Lauren responded with a bemused calm. “You know what, Steph? Regardless of the humiliation, I’ll take that. And there’s definitely not going to be a next time.”

“Sure,” Stephanie said, teasingly dragging out the word. “Call me when the next ‘casual’ event hits your schedule.”

Lauren could only groan in reply as she merged onto the main road, now laughing despite herself. “Fine. You win this time. But don’t expect me to wear a white skirt ever again when mud is even remotely involved. Lesson learned.”

“It’s okay,” Stephanie said approvingly. “Now go home, take a long shower, and maybe we’ll chat again when you’ve recovered what’s left of your spirit, queen.”

Lauren smiled, rolling her eyes fondly, already feeling a little lighter. "Ugh, you’re the worst—but thanks for the pep talk."

"Always, love. Always."

And with a friendly exchange of goodbyes and a final chuckle, Lauren clicked off the call. Part of her still wanted to scream into the muddy void, but at least now she could see the humor in it.