I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. This morning, I took my first fall on the icy footpath.
And not to do things by half-measures, I fell straight onto my bum.
In front of people.
On a major road.
AND a girl held out her hand and helped me up.
But I recovered quickly from my kamikaze turn, and waddled, wet jeans and all, to the bus stop. I didn't even curse. Not once.
The weirdest thing out of all of this? I fell so hard on my butt that I got a headache. How is that possible?
But before you express too much concern for me, I am okay. I would like to think I fell gracefully (at least that's the way I'm going to be telling this story for the foreseeable future).
And I have adopted an equally graceful - and I like to think attractive - way of stamp-walking. It's not a shuffle; rather, it's a stomp-stomp kind of manoeuvre that will hopefully make it impossible for me to exhibit a repeat performance of today's intimate encounter with the pavement!
3 comments:
Granny would say that as you haven't "matured" yet, many of your brains still reside where you sat, hence the pain. My only comment is that I think you would have looked fabaloos nonetheless ..........
Brings to mind my memory of the Adelaide Railway Station pedestrian crossing - mini skirt, cork platform shoes and a spectacular fall straight down onto the knees which left gaping holes in the stockings, and the urgent need to find several bandaids. The worst is getting up and trying to pretend nothing has happened and blocking out the view that people behind you had .....
As a matter of fact, I DID look fabaloos and I only resented wearing my short North Face jacket that day instead of my furry cover-all Dr Zhivago number.
Say it with me peeps: Chicago in the winter is not about fashion
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