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Just after we turned 16, my best friend and I got jobs at our favorite shoe store. On our first day we were in the storage room, gazing up at the racks of merchandise we would spend the next several weeks hauling out to the floor for customers.
My friend promptly knocked a cart into the rack and sent a small stack of boxes careening into the wall. He moved to clean up the mess, but I quickly stopped him. On the way in, he’d nearly tripped over his own feet. Enough was enough.
“Please, let me,” I said. “You’re having a clumsy day. Let’s not make things worse.”
He laughed as I picked the boxes up and spun to put them back on the shelf. But as I spun, my hip caught the cart hard. It bounced into the rack again—and this time, the rack collapsed entirely. Boxes tumbled, shoes went everywhere, and soon we were staring at a huge mess.
“At least we didn’t make it worse,” my friend said. “That would have been bad.”
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