Slippery Cyclist

Last weekend I went on a 13 mile bike ride with my friend Lindsey. We went early in the AM to beat the traffic on the roads, but it was SOOO cold! With the wind in our faces, we were losing feeling in our extremities by the middle of our ride. We decided to take a break at a little country restaurant on the side of the road. Our plan was to take turns watching the bikes while the other person went in and warmed up in the bathroom.
I went in first. Now, to get the full understanding of the situation in all its hilarity, you must be able to picture me...I was wearing my bike tights, cycling shirt, a neck warmer, ear warmers under my bike helmet, gloves under riding gloves and, most importantly, my cycling shoes with clipless cleats on the bottom. I walked in with the cyclist's waddle from wearing cleats under my toes. I politely asked if I could use the restroom, but by this point I was already aware that all the "country folk" (as Lindsey put it) were watching me closely. As you can imagine, I stood out like a sore thumb. The hostess motioned that the restroom was, of course, on the opposite side of the dining room. I began to "click" my way onto the tile floor. A few steps in, I realized the floor was coated with a significant layer of grease. I had no traction in my cycling shoes. After wobbling once or twice, and with every eye in the room on me, I fell royally on my bum. (I also smashed my sunglasses, which were in my hand) I know I must have looked hilarious! I was trying to act nonchalant, as people always do when they make absolute fools of themselves. I got up quickly and tried to make it to the bathroom without falling again. I heard some people who couldn't contain their laughter. In fact, the floor was so slippery that once I finally did get to the restroom, I couldn't push the door open because of the lack of traction. I had to hold onto the door frame and use only my upper body to get it open.
Afterwards, I went back out to Lindsey and told her I was afraid I had ruined her chances of warming up inside. I told her the story and she agreed that one cyclist was all that place could handle!