There are people that have no clue what goes on around them, or in my case, people that don’t pay attention to what goes on around them. Same diff.
You may have heard about my recent incident with an empty sugar jar. No? Well, let me tell you all about it.
Friday afternoon, Matt-Man went to work at 1:00, so I decided instead of taking a nap, which would have been the smart thing to do, I cleaned the digs. No biggie, I do it every Friday.
I was perfectly fine, until I decided to put some plates away on the top shelf of a cabinet. My cabinets are full, really full, and also, I’m obviously shrinking.
(Ed. Note: And what rhymes with “shrinking?”…Drinking!!)
So I get the plates in, but I must move the empty sugar jar just a tad. What is a tad you may ask?
Enough to send that fucker tumbling out of the cabinet straight into my face! Bled like a bitch. Nice bruise too.
At least it didn’t hit the floor, and shatter glass everywhere. I’m thankful for that.
One “accident” I had when I was living with the asshole that shall remain anonymous, for now…
I was going down into the basement to do laundry. Isn’t that what all good girlfriends do? No? Huh, I’m a moron.
Anyhoo…I have socks on, the steps are carpeted (foreshadowing), and what do I step on? A dryer sheet. Do the math. Yes I slid on that bitch.
Luckily, it was next to the bottom, so I only landed on my ass. The good news is I didn’t spill any laundry.
The hematoma was exquisite. Not a bruise my pretty people, a hematoma Whole butt cheek, and black. Completely black. Couldn’t sit for two days.
I think however, I am most famous for the car accident that I had with my most beeeeuuutiiifull purple Neon.
This one was not, I repeat not my fault. No really. I’ve got papers, and everything.
I was so proud of that car. Bought it on my own six months prior to…it’s demise.
Anyhow, I’m going home for lunch one day, and at the corner there are stop signs, to my left, and to my right. I was going straight.
Thank the good Lord I was only going like fifteen miles per hour. Out of nowhere this huge truck, coming from the left, decides to disregard the STOP sign.
I slam the brakes. Two feet on the brakes, to no avail. I hit that truck in it’s huge ass front tire. No damage to the truck of course, but my airbags went off (thank God again), and I did have my seatbelt on. The car was toast.
So what do I do, in my infinite wisdom?
I shake my head clear (relative term), unbuckle, jump out, and go fucking bat shit crazy on that ass.
“This car is only six months old, God Dammit”.
Cops are called, an ambulance arrived, yada, yada.
I was none this worse for wear. Just a huge goose egg on my head, a bruised knee, and a jammed finger from being slammed into the side window from the airbag.
I did scare the cop, and the ambulance driver though, because I refused to go the hospital.
I actually started feeling sorry for this guy. He had to be every bit of sixty five, and he was freaking out!
But wait, the bonus?
It was a truck that cleans out porta potties. I’ll just let you think about that for a moment. Done? Ok.
My beeeeuuuutiful six month old car, not to mention that I could have been killed because some moron ran a STOP sign, was completely totaled by a truck that cleans up SHIT.
I still feel bad that I probably traumatized the dude, but shit.
What you got?