I like to laugh; it's an emotion that comes very naturally to me. Almost anything makes me laugh. However, I must admit that on many occasions, this laughter is completely out of place, and after I experience it, I feel very embarrassed.
When I was very young, just seventeen, I began my studies at the Pedagogical University of Caracas. At that time, I was quite rebellious, wore my hair long, dressed casually, and was very irreverent.
Somehow, I didn't fit in very well at an institution where everyone was very formal. Most of my teachers and classmates always wore suits and ties and had very short hair, almost military style. Since it was a place where teachers were trained, there was a certain dress code that I didn't respect. In addition, I liked to laugh at simple things, which also contrasted with the serious atmosphere of the institution.
On one occasion, I went to a lecture in the institution's auditorium given by a guest professor from the Central University of Venezuela, a highly respected authority in the field of climatology. The atmosphere was very formal, with all the authorities of the Pedagogical University in attendance. On one side was the stage for the guest speaker, and next to it was a large table with a white tablecloth and red flowers, where the director of the institution and some of my professors were seated. I was sitting in the second row, very close to where there was a staircase.
That day, the auditorium was completely full, and we were all very excited to hear the lecture. From my seat, I looked up and realized that there was no room for anyone else.
Suddenly, the auditorium doors opened and the guest appeared, accompanied by some professors. He was a young man, about forty years old, short and quite heavyset. From the door to the podium, there were a few steps to go down and then a few more to go up to reach the stage.
The guest descended with great solemnity and complete confidence, getting closer and closer to the front of the stage. I followed his every step, impressed by the confidence with which he descended the stairs. He looked really good, to be honest.
Suddenly, as he began to climb up to where he was going to give his speech, he stumbled and fell forward. He had time to react so as not to fall, the papers he was carrying in his hands flew through the air, and the man ended up on all fours between the steps.
From where I was standing, that image reminded me of the figure of an elephant seen from behind. I didn't think about anything else, I didn't consider that he might have hurt himself and that he probably felt very bad about this little accident that had happened to him, none of that immediately came to mind. I just let myself be carried away by the image of the elephant. I found the scene funny and couldn't help but let out a little “ha, ha” automatically, without any bad intention, without thinking. It wasn't a big laugh, not even a loud one, but it was noticeable enough for everyone around me to notice.
Suddenly, I felt everyone looking at me; I had become the center of attention. As they stared at me, I felt myself sinking into my chair. Those looks were disapproving; it was obvious that my laughter had been completely inappropriate. I was so embarrassed that I felt everyone wanted me to leave. I couldn't resist that feeling and left without listening to the talk...
I think that was the worst time I ever laughed at the wrong moment. Of course, there have been other times when I've laughed at something inappropriate and felt embarrassed about it, and felt bad afterwards. But none of them compare to that day when I attended that man's talk...
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Translated with DeepL.com (free version).
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