I ate four steps worth to be exact. This moment was supposed to be reserved for editing/writing time since I have not posted anything for a few days. Unfortunately, I jinxed myself earlier when my flip flop snagged on a concrete block and caused me to stumble. The buddy that was with me made some comment about my ability to walk, and I assured him it was the sole of my Panamanian sandals that caused the near fall, not a lack coordination. Then I did a couple of slides across the concrete to demonstrate my point. I also went one step further by stating, “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fall. I’ve come close to eatin’ it a few times, but I have NEVER fallen in these shoes.”
Fast forward to about 30 minutes later when I decided not to go see “Watchmen” because of the 8:30 pm showing along with its 2 hour and 43 minute running time. I blame my reluctance to go on the 2 hours I spent in the car yesterday to visit “M” in B.F.E., aka suburbia, during 5-o’clock traffic. Add to that the diet coke I drank at 10 pm, followed by a caffeine rush that kept me awake past midnight. I’d do it again though…probably. But tonight, I decided having to get up early is not conducive to going to bed late, and three long days in a row was a little too much.
After the “tonight’s not a great night” spiele, my buddy started to walk me down the steps to his front door. Feeling my sandals were making too much noise, I slowed my walk to a softer, more relaxed pace. Bad call. Stick to what you know. If noisy is your style, then “clomp, clomp, clomp” it up. My body does not know how to be soft or delicate, hence my attempted feminine descent was interruped by, “Whoa, whoa, ahhh…BOOOOM…boomboomboom…craaaaash!”
I did a banana peel fall down the first step (the “Whoa, whoa, ahhh…BOOOM”). The sweat wicking material of my athletic skirt sent me sliding down another three (“boomboomboom”) until, along with the contents of my purse, I had no where else to fall (“craaaaash!”). We, my purse and I, landed in the entry way a couple seconds later. Shock, pain, along with collecting the random items strewn about (including my wits) shortly followed my less than graceful attempt to exit. I got up and “Jimmica” (Jimmy) walked me back to my car with chuckles and a little assistance here and there.
If it had not been for eating it so hard, I would actually be working on corrections or some other post but the throbbing pain is overtaking the entire right thigh and buttock. Fall. Comí mierda. Duele.
I have learned not to wear my slick Panamanian sandals, or the black Santana stillettos which caused a similar incident, and that “eating shit” can make your butt hurt quite badly.
