Had I just experienced my own personal earthquake? Did I tip over due to excessive exposure to yellow fabric dialog? Was I being punished for impatient thoughts? Whatever the cause, I now found myself sprawled on the floor, thoroughly embarrassed and confused. I struggled to get my feet back under me and stand upright, which was no small task (kindly reference previous comment about muscle strain and yard work).
I hastily glanced around me. Edith, who was actually facing me, never batted an eye, like this sort of thing happens all the time. Although Lulu's back was partially turned to me, I'm fairly certain I made a distinctive 'thud' and 'oof' when I crashed a mere yard (how ironic) behind her. In her defense, however, Lulu had just decided to go for the full 12-inches of plain yellow fabric (well, good for her).
A woman cruised past me with her cart, while another woman stood off to one side griping her number in eager anticipation her turn at the cutting table. A man was walking towards me, but never looked down; at one point I thought he might actually trip over me. Indeed. No one, not one soul, looked my direction.
Apparently, I had neglected to completely unhook my left foot from behind its resting place behind my right ankle before taking a step forward (leading with aforementioned left foot). My defense is that my mind went numb from the critical yellow fabric decision making process.
I had managed to slam my left hip and derriere onto the tile floor, followed by my shoulder. The right side of my neck got wrenched as I fought gravity on the way down. My left ankle was also sprained; since my left foot didn’t untangle from behind my right ankle, the side of my left foot landed on the floor and unsuccessfully tried to support my weight. Even my jaw hurts (from the sudden jarring impact, I suppose). Back and ribs were twisted and torqued.
I managed to heave myself vertical, no thanks to the people around me. Have you ever watched a cow get to its feet? It probably looked distressingly like that. I hobbled over to the thread and selected a spool of 250 yards of red thread; I am definitely not coming back to this store any sooner than necessary.
It was finally my turn at the counter. It took less than two minutes total for both my items. I aimed my cart for the cash register and, no surprise here, Lulu was just ahead of me. I had tried to hurry, but that maddening limp slowed me down. There was something wrong with her receipt, naturally, and the manager had to call Edith to get the UPC code for one of the fabrics (I'm betting it was that revoltingly cheery yellow stuff).
This is the kind of thing that one would like to completely pretend never happened. However, once I got home I had to explain to my husband that there would be the appearance of some ghastly bruises in regions of my body that would raise questions. And if I have to confess my clumsiness to him, I might as well tell you, too.
©2016 Roberta McReynolds for SeniorWomen.com
More Articles
- Annandale-on-Hudson, New York ... With Pleasure: Pattern and Decoration in American Art 1972 - 1985
- Ragna Brasse: A Selection of Her Architectural, Oriental and Cosmic Dream Visions
- The Science of Knitting: Understanding How Stitch Types Govern Shape
- Past Is Present, Revival Jewelry: "Reviving and Reinterpreting Antique Styles For a New Age"
- Simple Things (Really Simple) To Keep Kids Busy, From Age Six to After Fourteen
- The 'Stereoscopic' Vision of Dressmakers; Are Dressmakers Drawn to the Trade Because of Their Visual Stereo-acuity?
- Things My Grandmothers Taught Me: Oil Your Opals and Boil Your Diamonds
- Zandra Rhodes, Cinderella and the Goldstein Museum of Design
- Simple Things (Really Simple) To Keep Kids Busy, From Under Twos to Six
- A Playlist Connected to a Pillow Before, During and After An Operation