I arrived here at Denny’s to do homework and needed to get my backpack out of my trunk. As I was walking to my trunk, I lost track of the cement barrier used to stop the cars from going over a curb. I knew it was there and I even picked my foot up to step over it. But, I was too late.
I went down.
As I am sprawled with my left leg tucked under me and my elbow in the grass, I take an assessment of myself and I seem to be doing just fine. Nothing is screaming in pain and I can still feel all my fingers and toes.
I hear a voice, “Are you ok?”
There’s a lady a couple of cars down who saw the whole thing. “Yes, I'm fine. Thanks so much.”
“Do you need help up?”
I giggle. “No, I'm good. Thank you for asking. That's really sweet.”
I look down at the grass where my elbow is currently encased in cold mud and see that there is a shattered baby food jar right near my hand. “Whew! That could have been bad.”
I hobble myself off the ground and notice some red spots on the curb. Then a couple more. Apparently I did NOT miss the baby food jar. My pinky had a large piece of skin that was “shaved” off.
Nice.
I wrap my finger in a napkin from my car (thanks to the example set forth by my father, I had plenty) and go inside to the bathroom. Good thing no one was in there because it looked like I had killed someone. Who knew a pinky could bleed so much? I wrapped it up in a paper towel and secured it with a hair tie from my bag. Linda, the manager, took one look at my bandage and told me that, "It's ok, Mexicans do that, too." She then got me a Band-aid.
So now, as I sit here writing this, I am starting to feel the spot where my knee smacked the pavement and where my ankle twisted a little. Doesn't hurt that much though.
Only I could fall in a concrete parking lot and get hurt by a baby food jar.
