Cruzing for a bruising or, I've got my own dork cross to bear
HI, my name is John and I'm a dork. I was out walking the dogs last night with my wife and I heard an alarm going off in the rec center across the street from where I was talking to some neighbors. Intrepid sort that I am, I took my brave dog Odelia (her name evolved from O.D. which stands for 'other dog') over to investigate. I was tuning my 50-something ears to maximum listening power..so intent was I on figuring out exactly where the alarm was emanating, I tripped over a curb.
Wishing to save my hands from concrete scraping, I sacrificed the left side of my face so that my head could break the fall. I managed to break my glasses and leave enough blood on the sidewalk that one might think that there was an actual 'BLOOD' altercation at that spot.
My wife hied me with quick dispatch to Centennial hospital emergency room but they were not in a 'hie-ing' frame of mind. I was not dying and the blood letting had slowed to an advanced trickle, so I was allowed to sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes. My favorite moment in the waiting room was when the nurse was summoning the next patient - She yelled 'Cruz!!' and six patients in the waiting room stood up thinking they were THE Cruz of the moment.
I got to wear one of those dorky neck braces while they took some pictures. For the entire 1 hour and 15 minutes I was being treated, a woman in the waiting room was moaning loudly, 'please Jesus, would somebody help me', 'please Jesus would somebody help me'. After the 33rd minute of this (and yes I was timing all of this because I was in the 15th stage of boredom), I wanted to give her some personal help which would have involved a copy of the non-virtual PDR and a heavy blow to the head.
Anyway, now I am stitched up and wigged out on pain meds. I may be scarred for life physically, but much worse is the fact that I am now a confirmed dork-for-life. Even my loyal pooch Odelia is embarrassed to be seen walking with me...
Wishing to save my hands from concrete scraping, I sacrificed the left side of my face so that my head could break the fall. I managed to break my glasses and leave enough blood on the sidewalk that one might think that there was an actual 'BLOOD' altercation at that spot.
My wife hied me with quick dispatch to Centennial hospital emergency room but they were not in a 'hie-ing' frame of mind. I was not dying and the blood letting had slowed to an advanced trickle, so I was allowed to sit in the waiting room for 45 minutes. My favorite moment in the waiting room was when the nurse was summoning the next patient - She yelled 'Cruz!!' and six patients in the waiting room stood up thinking they were THE Cruz of the moment.
I got to wear one of those dorky neck braces while they took some pictures. For the entire 1 hour and 15 minutes I was being treated, a woman in the waiting room was moaning loudly, 'please Jesus, would somebody help me', 'please Jesus would somebody help me'. After the 33rd minute of this (and yes I was timing all of this because I was in the 15th stage of boredom), I wanted to give her some personal help which would have involved a copy of the non-virtual PDR and a heavy blow to the head.
Anyway, now I am stitched up and wigged out on pain meds. I may be scarred for life physically, but much worse is the fact that I am now a confirmed dork-for-life. Even my loyal pooch Odelia is embarrassed to be seen walking with me...
