Decaf diet offset by adrenaline breakfast
Friday, July 25, 2008 at 12:34PM I knew Jim shouldn't have said what he said. I didn't know it would lead to me stabbing myself in the nipple, but it just seemed like a bad omen. As I pulled away from the plastics shop he lamented, "You get to drive the new truck before me!" I wouldn't think of a comeback for another few miles. (for the record: "it's good to have a more competent driver test it")
A few miles after that I was merging onto I-25. I was running out of lane space when I glimpsed my moment to get over. About right then some prick in a little car most likely bought after several sweaty viewings of the Fast and the Furious, cut me off. I had to stop before I hit the guy ahead of me. I could see the dude in the truck behind me still looking out his window for a break in traffic. All I could do is sit there and wonder how much it was going to hurt. I was actually a little jealous that he didn't even get to see it coming. But then, possessed with equal parts goodness and agility, Randy, as I'd later find out his name, turned his head just in time to avoid me. He was even so gracious as to ram his truck into the concrete barrier.
He was OK. His driving and bowel control are above average. The truck needs some work.
Anyway, later, I was back at the shop unloading sheets of plastic. I don't know if you know this, but plastic is fricken sharp. Because of this I've tried to curb my caffeine. It makes me all herky-jerky and I hurt myself. However, haunted with thoughts of dying on the freeway, I wasn't much better. The first thing I did was, while aiming to grab the plastic, completely miss the gap between my fingers and opposable thumb, and jam my knuckles into the edge of some 1/4 inch polycarb. On the 120" inches of its shiny whiteness my blood looked pretty cool. Like an Andy Warhol American flag.
Then I bent down to grab my hand, and curse my derailing thousand of years of evolution, and one of the corners stabbed me in the boob, perforating my generous areola.
It hurt. And worse was imagining lifting my shirt and having it fall to the floor. I'm not sure if a lot of people lose nipples, but I imagine you'd look for it like you would a contact lens, but a little more freaked out.
Luckily, everything is there and intact. I've been looking at it to ascertain how to explain how it looks. I don't know, imagine a crop circle on a hair farm, but with a river of lava flowing into the neighboring vegetation. I hope that works for you.
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