I might be a klutz

I tried to make Nick watch GLEE in Lima. It didn't work out so well.

I bleed alot in my job. I have some scars, I think of them as trophies. Today I may have added two more.

The First.
The plasma tv case has lots of corners and Cabbage Case latches that are easy to get stuck in. I've closed my thumb in one before. Today though, I injured myself on the most benign thing possible. A screw head on the plastic cover which acts as a barrier between the tv and the outer case. Its this plastic cover that measures maybe a 1/4 inch thick. I gouged a chunk of skin out of the pad of my right ring finger. I consider it a blood sacrifice to the show. The show needs it to be happy.

The Second.
Nick's real birthday was tonight so we ended up going to Applebee's for drinks and dinner. I generally like to spend as little of my own money on the road as possible but still I had a beer for the occasion. When food arrives I head to the restroom to wash my hands. As soon as I enter the ladies, my right foot slips across the floor about two feet. I quickly regain my balance and stated a quick, 'Woooo-hoo!' to no one, dismissing the slide as slippery soap or a spilled liquid. I quickly do my business and go about returning to the table. On my exit from the restroom there is a small incline down to the bar that levels out and leads to my booth. Two servers and I have that awkward shifty side to side dance where no one is sure where the other is going. It's tense and all around unpleasant so I do as I always do. I begin this prance and crablike sideways saunter down the incline to relieve tension and with all hope crack a smile out of someone, even if it's just me. But then it happens.....

I slip.
My left foot slips in front of my right and this time the momentum is too great.
I fall on my left knee and my right ass cheek, breaking my fall with my hands to keep my overly large head safe from smashing upon the ground.
Ironically, with my right leg I kick down a bright yellow 'Piso Mojado' sign that flings across the floor and makes a loud clamour in the quiet restaurant. The two servers I began this dance with visibly clench their butt cheeks and have two visible thoughts written in their eyes and faces, "Ouch" and "Lawsuit." I quick arise and wince, knowing my left knee is finally catching up with my right in scars, I am met with several 'Are you okays?" from my audience that I quickly brush off to return to my booth. I immediately tell my table what happened with a self-deprecating laugh. Nick looks sorry he missed it, he so loves to see me in pain. Over the next twenty minutes virtually every staff person in the Applebee's comes over to our table to see if I'm alright, much to my chagrin. Do not get me wrong, I appreciate their concern, but I am embarrassed enough. This may be the best birthday present Nick has gotten from me. The manager comes to our table to make certain everything is kosher with our meal. It is. She asks if I'm alright, I assure her I am. Nick states that if I drink more I won't feel it, perhaps hoping as I am that a free something will be sent over. Nothing is sent. I don't hold a grudge, I used to work in a movie theatre where little old ladies would slip on butter for popcorn, I understand how this works. I'm not a fussy person.

After the clamour dies down, I examine my left knee, it is not pretty. Dead brown skin cells hang from the knee cap and bright red blood springs to the surface to coagulate my wound. I'll have to stop at the truck on our way back to treat it.

When the bills come I grab for the liquor bill since it is Nick's birthday. He refuses and pays for the whole thing. Bastard. The server overhears me arguing with Nick about the liquor bill and how I should pay since it's his birthday. He ends up bringing Nick an ice cream confection (sans birthday singing at my request, I remark how Nick'd be much happier if I'd just be asked over and over again by the staff if I was okay after my fall, Nick nods in agreement). The ice cream is pretty good.

My knee still really stings.

No comments:

Post a Comment