At the office, we’re doing some ‘spring cleaning’. We have a couple of off-site storage places where we store old paperwork for Human Resources and Accounting and stuff. Anyhow, they announce on Tuesday anyone who wants to help can come in grungy clothing on Wednesday (when the big clean-out is). Fine.
I walk in on Wednesday and I’m moving boxes around like I own the place. We’re throwing out garbage, cleaning out closets and, basically, tearing the place apart (in a good way).
So I’m out in the parking lot loading some boxes on the back of a pickup and there are more boxes than will fit within my reach of the back end of the pickup. Fine. I decide that I’m going to get into the business end of this VEE-Hicle and continue this macho-man thing I’ve got working.
It’s at this point that I should mention A-girl (remember her?) is helping with all this, which is fine by me because she’s a good worker and I like looking at her ass in those jeans.
I put my left hand on the outside wall of the truck (just above the tail light) and my right hand is on the tailgate right next to the latch. I figure – I’m just going to do a quick little hop and I’ll be in the back of this thing lickety-split.
Well, my left foot didn’t quite make it over the tailgate and my leg, from knee to ankle, proceeds to slide down the edge of the tailgate. A-girl happened to be walking away at that moment so she didn’t get to see me in all my glory, but my left leg below the knee began to hurt like hell. I managed to catch myself before I fell flat on my face, but the damage was already done.
I sat on the edge of the pickup saying to myself “Jeez, that was a stupid thing to do”. My boss was there and she happened to witness the whole thing. The first thing she says is “Jeez, that was a stupid thing to do”. I started laughing and agreed with her. It had been less than a minute and I lifted up the leg of my jeans and lowered my sock to look at the damage. It looked a little like road rash and was swelling up rather nicely, thank you.
The rest of that day my jeans rubbing against the wound felt like sandpaper. It doesn’t hurt much anymore unless I stand on it for a long time or press up against anything with it. It still looks like hell but it’s starting to itch, which I know is a good sign and it means it’s starting to heal.
I’m not a little kid anymore – what the hell was I trying to prove? Sometimes grown-ups do stupid things.
I walk in on Wednesday and I’m moving boxes around like I own the place. We’re throwing out garbage, cleaning out closets and, basically, tearing the place apart (in a good way).
So I’m out in the parking lot loading some boxes on the back of a pickup and there are more boxes than will fit within my reach of the back end of the pickup. Fine. I decide that I’m going to get into the business end of this VEE-Hicle and continue this macho-man thing I’ve got working.
It’s at this point that I should mention A-girl (remember her?) is helping with all this, which is fine by me because she’s a good worker and I like looking at her ass in those jeans.
I put my left hand on the outside wall of the truck (just above the tail light) and my right hand is on the tailgate right next to the latch. I figure – I’m just going to do a quick little hop and I’ll be in the back of this thing lickety-split.
Well, my left foot didn’t quite make it over the tailgate and my leg, from knee to ankle, proceeds to slide down the edge of the tailgate. A-girl happened to be walking away at that moment so she didn’t get to see me in all my glory, but my left leg below the knee began to hurt like hell. I managed to catch myself before I fell flat on my face, but the damage was already done.
I sat on the edge of the pickup saying to myself “Jeez, that was a stupid thing to do”. My boss was there and she happened to witness the whole thing. The first thing she says is “Jeez, that was a stupid thing to do”. I started laughing and agreed with her. It had been less than a minute and I lifted up the leg of my jeans and lowered my sock to look at the damage. It looked a little like road rash and was swelling up rather nicely, thank you.
The rest of that day my jeans rubbing against the wound felt like sandpaper. It doesn’t hurt much anymore unless I stand on it for a long time or press up against anything with it. It still looks like hell but it’s starting to itch, which I know is a good sign and it means it’s starting to heal.
I’m not a little kid anymore – what the hell was I trying to prove? Sometimes grown-ups do stupid things.