I didn't go to store where I usually go to get it. It's cheaper there, but it takes a lot of psyching up and mental fortitude on my part to actually go in there. Usually the briefest of visits, having to plod along behind the cattle to get my hair spray or whatever, makes me absolutely hate my fellow humans and besides, the crashing sound from all of the falling prices scares me. Instead, I stopped at the one with the bulls-eye logo and picked up two 5# bags to see us through for a spell while I worked up the Zen-like attitude I would need to go back to store # 1.
I was coming out of the store with the two dog food bags, each in it's own white plastic bag with handles, one in each hand, minding my own business, when it happened. I hit the only minuscule particle of ice on the whole darn sidewalk. Of course. Have you ever had one of those slow- motion-out-of-body experiences where you see the whole thing happening from above? Here's what I saw:
Me: Doing the light-freakin'-fantastic in one of those spectacular falls where you almost go down, but then you don't, but then you almost do....all the while swinging the two five pound bags of dog food in some strange kind a numb-chuck-come-windmill move that in itself should have wiped me out, but is strangely contributing enough centrifugal force to keep me upright.
The Lady To My Immediate Left: Thowing her hands over her head, ducking down and uttering the most slow motion, unGodl-iest, Psycho-In-The-Shower scream I have ever heard in my life.
The Gentleman To My Right And Slightly Ahead of Me Who Didn't See The Initial Slip, But Heard The Screamer: Turning around in time to catch the tail end of my interpretive dance, deciding that I was wielding some sort of terrorist kibble bomb, and doing some kind of Crouching-Tiger-Hidden-Dragon-Wire-Fu move that transported him half way across the parking lot without actually requiring him to touch the asphalt. Yes, ladies...chivalry is dead and gone. Gone in a whole lot less than 60 seconds as it turns ...and in Timberland work boots.
I finally regained my footing and composure, stopped flailing around like a dork, and just stood there taking stock of the situation. There was that moment of silence. You know the one where it feels like time stops completely. Then the Screamer starts giggling. Then I start giggling and before you know it we are both doubled over laughing like loons in that way you do when only seconds ago you were sure you were going to die but now it's all Okey-Dokey Thank You Very Much. We had just calmed down a little when I pointed out that He-Man had made it to his car without once looking back and we start in hooting all over again. (Incidently, the piece de resistance was getting the finger from him as he drove off. I'm so sorry my near demise ruined his day! )
- Animal feed, when used incorrectly, can be interpreted as a weapon of mass destruction.
- Work boots will get you there faster then the best running shoes in a foot race.